#I’m talking in both fanfiction and live action

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

more than i can handle

pairing: wonwoo x seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, poly!au, non-idol!au - minors dni.

warnings: dirty talk, dildo play, heavy degradation (whore, slut etc), use of petnames (sunshine, princess, baby boy, pretty boy), dom!wonwoo, switch!reader, sub!seungcheol, kissing, makeout session, anal sex, oral sex (m rec), heavy mxm action, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), creampies, voyeurism, masturbation, hair pulling, sir kink, ass slapping, aftercare

word count: 5,517

summary: the abundance of snow outside won't stop you and wonwoo from restocking your fridge. and it certainly won't stop seungcheol from getting what he wants from his girlfriend and boyfriend - their undivided attention.

Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.

Author's note: your favorite poly is back and better than ever hehe - big thanks to @wongyuseokie, @gyuwoncheol, @highvern, @ourdawnishotterthanourday and @wonuvs for beta reading this fic!

p.s.: if you read about snow and holidays pls ignore, it was in the works since december😭

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

“...Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate the understanding. Have a nice day.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call with a satisfied hum and he slouches back on his chair, returning to his work at hand.

“So, what’s the verdict?” You ask him, sitting on your own chair.

“Work from home. There was absolutely no way I’d be able to move the car with so much snow outside.” Wonwoo replies.

“Does that mean we get to be with you all day long?” 

“That’s right, sunshine.” He smiles sweetly and you get up and hug him excitedly, pressing your lips on his cheek.

“What’s the plan for today? Aside from working, of course.” 

“I was thinking of just being cozy with the two of you, y’know? Like those cliché Pinterest aesthetic winter routines.”

“I thought you weren’t the hot cocoa type.” You raise your brow playfully as you go back to your laptop.

“Just because I’m a coffee addict doesn’t mean I hate everything else.” Wonwoo defends himself while fixing his glasses.

“Well you definitely hate my protein shakes!” Seungcheol butts into the conversation from afar.

“That’s because your protein shakes are atrocious.” Wonwoo deadpans, “No sane person puts chicken breast in a glass.”

“Ew, that does sound atrocious.” You grimace in disgust.

“This is why you’re still lanky and not buff, Jeon.” Seungcheol scoffs as he downs the rest of his shake. 

“Maybe not everyone wants to be a muscle monster like you, Choi.” The younger man sighs and goes back to his task at hand.

“Oh wow, thanks for paying so much attention to me.” 

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Cheollie. He has a lot of work to do, despite staying home.” You try to reassure your other boyfriend.

“Does that mean you’re willing to make up for lost attention?”

“I’m sorry, but I need to catch up with my assignments….” You rub the back of your head apologetically.

“In the middle of the holidays?!” Seungcheol looks at you baffled.

“But my exams start two weeks after the holiday break! There’s not a lot, I promise.” You cup his cheeks.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at you with a huff.

You watch him walk towards the bedroom with heavy steps and guilt settles in your gut.

“I think I was insensitive…” You plop down on the armchair.

“No, he’s being dramatic.” Wonwoo replies without breaking contact with his computer screen.

“But he got a leave from his job just to spend it with us and we’re ignoring him!” 

“Y/N, he’s doing it on purpose.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Wait a couple of minutes and you’ll see.” 

You look at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression and return to your laptop.

Shortly after, you notice Seungcheol coming into the living room, clad in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tight muscle tee. He’s sporting his earphones, as if he was going to the gym for his daily work out session.

Except he starts working out right in the middle of the room, without giving a single fuck.

He starts by stretching out his legs and arms and then proceeds to put music in his ears, switching into the more intense part of his workout. It doesn’t take long for him to start grunting and moaning as he does series after series of exercises, the sweat accumulated on his body staining the fabric of his muscle tee.

“Cheollie?” You peek your head from behind your laptop. “Do you need some water?”

“No worries, princess. I don’t want to distract you from your assignment.” He gives you a quick peck on the corner of your lips.

In true Choi Seungcheol fashion, he does his best to actually distract you from your work by taking off his muscle tee and continuing his work out shirtless.

Wonwoo turns around and takes a look at his boyfriend, mouthing a “told you so” when he turns his gaze to you.

It takes all of his willpower to not bodyslam Seungcheol on the floor and fuck the living daylights out of him with the grunts and moans he’s letting out. He swears there’s a tent forming in his black sweats and he’s quite certain there will be wet spots on the fabric pretty soon. He puts on his noise canceling headphones to focus on his work and get it done as soon as possible.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of distractedness and all you’ve written in your essay is utter gibberish, rubbing your thighs together to provide some relief to your aching core. Right now, all you can think of is being underneath Seungcheol and getting fucked into next week.

You get up from the couch and walk over to the fridge to grab some ice cold water. As soon as you open it, your eyes widen in horror when you see the lack of basic groceries and dairy products.

“Um, guys? We have a problem.” You shout at them, but none of them lift their heads.

You get back to them and tap their shoulders to get their attention. 

“What’s up, princess?” Seungcheol removes his earbuds and pushes his hair back.

“Our fridge is empty. Like, the basics are missing.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He rubs his palms over his face.

“Are the stores even open right now?” Wonwoo asks.

“It has stopped snowing for now and there are probably tons of people who didn’t anticipate this weather. Some stores have to be open, even for emergency situations!” You rest your hands on your waist.

“Give me a second.” Wonwoo goes back to his laptop and with a few rapid clicks on his keyboard, he searches for nearby stores.

“There is one, about six hundred meters away from here.” He turns his screen to the both of you to see.

“It won’t be an ordeal to get there. All we need is sturdy shoes and warm clothes.” You shrug and move towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks you.

“To get dressed and go get groceries. The fridge won’t get full on its own.”

“Hold on , I’m coming with you.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Wonwoo gets up.

“I thought you were really fucking busy with work?” The blond man asks with irony laced in his words.

“I still am, but if you go out all sweaty, you’ll be bedridden for the rest of the holidays and none of us want that.”

“You’re not my mom, Wonwoo.”

“No, but I’m your boyfriend and I still care about your health. Now please go take a fucking shower, you’re all sweaty and gross.” He walks past the shirtless man, but Seungcheol stops him by putting his hand on Wonwoo’s chest.

“You better not think I haven’t noticed that little tent of yours, pretty boy. Two people can play a game.” 

“Too bad there’s three of us in this relationship. And I won’t be the outnumbered one.” Wonwoo bites back and pushes his arm away to join you in the bedroom.

Seungcheol scoffs and pokes his cheek with his tongue. 

Fine by me, he thinks, already thinking of the next step he’s gonna take.

A few minutes later, you and Wonwoo leave the apartment to go buy the much needed groceries and Seungcheol is left alone, an almost childish grin plastered all over his face.

He skips over to the bathroom, stripping himself naked and throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket. He jumps in the shower and lets the warm water run over his body, washing away the sweat from his work out session. He pours a generous amount of shower gel over his body and spreads it thoroughly over his skin, the cherry scent enveloping the small room. Even if the shower itself is relaxing, Seungcheol himself is way too worked up -  and it’s not just because of the post workout adrenaline. The blatant ignorance he experiences from you and Wonwoo annoys him and turns him on to the point of lunacy. 

He washes the suds from his hands and brings two fingers in his mouth, spitting on them and rubbing them over the rim of his ass experimentally.

He moans heavily when he pushes the fingers inside, cock twitching with need. He puts his free hand on the wall of the shower to support himself while stretching out his hole. He works his thick digits in and out of his ass, eyes scrunched shut and thighs flexing with each thrust. Every time he bites his bottom lip to suppress his moans, he fails miserably and moans even louder - he’s home alone, after all.

His cock is rock hard by now, the tip flushed an angry red and veins bulging over his shaft. He can almost feel the precum starting to build up and ready to leak all over, but he doesn’t want to cum yet and definitely not like this. He removes his fingers from his ass, satisfied with the stretch and washes away the rest of the suds, turning off the shower.

He fastens his bathrobe around his waist and goes into the bedroom, opening his side of the closet to search for his sex toy stash. He giggles when he finds the familiar box and opens it hastily, taking out his favorite knotted dildo. He grabs the lube from the nightstand drawer and looks around the bedroom to see where he’ll place the toy.

His gaze falls on the full bodied mirror next to the closet and an idea pops up in his head as he fiddles with the dildo in his hands. He removes his bathrobe and throws it on the bed, walking to the living room to get his phone. Once he returns to the bedroom, he kneels in front of the mirror and grabs his cock, slowly pumping it with his fist. He pulls up the phone camera and snaps a handful of pictures, flexing his biceps and thighs on purpose to make them look even more attractive.

“Damn, I don’t even have to filter them.” He checks them one by one, absolutely satisfied with the results.

He sends them to the group chat with a quick text, waiting for the two of you to open them and lose your minds. 

“Are we missing anything else?” Wonwoo asks you while pushing the shopping cart down the aisle.

“Maybe some bathroom supplies? Just to be sure, in case it snows again.” 

“I swear, if it weren’t for you, we would have died a long time ago.” Your boyfriend applauds you for your organizing skills.

Both of your phones go off at the same time and you fish your phone out of the pocket of your parka.

“What’s up?” He asks you while putting two ramen cups in the cart.

“Cheol texted the group chat.”

“He probably wants us to buy chicken breast for his godforsaken shakes.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

You open the messaging app and you let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth after being heard by other customers, instantly closing the screen of your phone.

“What happened, sunshine?” The tall man asks you with worry written all over his face.

“Um….How do I put this….” You scratch your heated cheek.

“Y/N, what did he send you?”

“See for yourself.” You point to his pocket and Wonwoo impatiently unlocks his phone

He clenches his jaw tight when he opens Seungcheol’s messages, the previous hard-on he was sporting now threatening to get bigger.

cheollie has sent three photos.

cheollie: it could be your hands but you’re working instead

“This motherfucker.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue and types back a quick reply. He puts his phone back in his pocket and pushes the cart towards the cashiers with quicker steps.

“Hey, what about the rest of the supplies?!” You tug at the sleeve of his parka.

“We’ll get them, sunshine. We just need to be quick about it.” He almost grits his teeth.

“You’re not the only one who’s hot and bothered because of Seungcheol.” You step in front of the cart.

“So you admit that you were having a hard time with your essay.”

“I never said I didn’t! Do you know how difficult it was to type on my laptop while he was groaning and moaning-”

“Like a bitch in heat?” Wonwoo completes your sentence with a lopsided smirk.

“Exactly! And he looks so beefy and thick and-”

“And unbearably hot, yeah I know. And God, it drives me insane.” He lets out a shaky breath.

“Wonu?” You ask him with a lowered voice.

“Yes?”

“Can we get out of here? Like, real soon?”

“I thought you wanted to shop some more stuff?” Wonwoo chuckles at your sudden burst of impatience.

“I still do, but I also have a hot boyfriend at home who could be doing God knows what.” 

“Your other boyfriend is still here with you, though.” He pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“My other boyfriend wants to fuck the boyfriend at home too.” You grin and pull on the other end of the cart. “Come on, time is of the essence.”

As soon as you step foot into the apartment, you are greeted by absolute silence. You opt to call out Seungcheol’s name, but Wonwoo covers your mouth with his hand. He tells you to keep quiet by mouthing the words. He nods towards the fridge and you take off your shoes, tiptoeing your way to the kitchen and place the bags on the counter as stealthily as possible. He takes off his shoes and parka, taking careful steps towards the bedroom.

The closer he gets, the louder he can hear noises coming from the secluded space. He notices the door being cracked open just enough to get a good view of what is happening inside and he takes the initiative of pushing it wide open to rest his body on the door frame and watch the show in front of him.

Seungcheol is bouncing his ass on the knotted dildo like his life depends on it, the muscles on his thighs and back rippling with every motion. His moans are airy, almost whiny and it makes Wonwoo’s cock drip in his boxers, his self control starting to run thin. 

A small creaking noise on the doorframe alerts Seungcheol and he turns his head around, scanning his boyfriend up and down.

“Oh, don’t mind me, you can keep going.” Wonwoo waves his hand in dismissal.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping for your sake.” Seungcheol scoffs and keeps fucking himself on the toy, as if the younger man doesn’t exist in the room.

“If you want to grab my attention for real, you can try taking the knot in your ass and stay there.” 

“Are you challenging me?”

“You’re the one who said your ass can handle a lot.”

“Hmph. Whatever.” Seungcheol scoffs as lifts himself off the dildo to grab the lube and pour some more over the toy, climbing back on it again to ease himself on the bulbous knot. 

The initial stretch is always intimidating, but as soon as the knot disappears inside him, his body shudders and his nails scratch the wooden floor, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

He wants to move so bad, so fucking bad-

“Don’t you dare move.” Wonwoo’s voice is rough and demanding.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” The blond man bites back and raises his hips ever so slightly, never breaking eye contact with his boyfriend.

“I don’t think you want to do this. Am I right, baby boy?”

Seungcheol freezes in his spot, thighs going weak at the pet name. His mouth quivers, the knot stretching him open and he struggles to keep himself in check.

Wonwoo walks with slow steps towards his boyfriend, kneeling next to him. 

“What’s wrong? You went pretty docile just now, didn’t you?” He smirks.

“Fuck you.” Seungcheol grits his teeth.

“What did you say?” Wonwoo grips his jaw tight.

“I said fuck you, pretty boy.” Seungcheol sports a shit-eating grin and it earns him a harsh slap on the ass, making him whine pathetically.

“I prefer it when you make pretty sounds like the one you made just now.” Wonwoo runs his thumb over the pretty pink bottom lip and the naked man sucks the digit.

“That thing where you two start without me is getting annoying.” You shake your head in disapproval, stepping into the bedroom impatiently.

“Sorry sunshine, but baby boy is being a little impatient slut today.” 

“Yeah, I noticed. I bet he thought of walking around the apartment completely naked just to get our attention.” You take off your clothes in a hurry, remaining only in your underwear set. 

“Ooh, she has the lace on.” Wonwoo whistles in a flirty way as he takes his thumb away.

“I always like to be prepared for any case.”

“Could you please p-pay some attention to me?” Seungcheol asks through gritted teeth, struggling with the toy inside him.

“Hm? What was that, Cheollie?” You kneel right next to him, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please pay some attention to me.” He repeats his sentence a bit louder.

“We are right here, baby boy.” Wonwoo cups his neck lovingly, “Just tell us what you want and we’ll give it to you.”

“I need you, both, please.” The blond man exhales shakily.

Wonwoo and you look at each other, sharing impish glances, as if your brains thought of the same thing at the same time. He then gets up and takes off his long sleeved shirt and sweats, dropping the clothes right in front of Seungcheol. He then sits on the bed, patting his lap for you to join him.

You climb on the bed and in your boyfriend’s lap, leaving your other boyfriend shocked and visibly upset.

“You- I hate you both.” He grumbles while clenching his fists on the floor.

“If you want to join, then don’t cum.” Wonwoo looks him straight in the eyes while groping your ass. “Perhaps then we’ll consider it.”

“Wonu? I am right here, baby.” You get his attention by putting your hands on his broad shoulders and you rub yourself on his boxers to rile him up. And it works like a fucking charm, because he’s shoving his tongue down your throat like a man who hasn’t kissed someone in an entire lifetime. 

His kisses are usually softer and more calculated, but not today - Wonwoo is far too riled up to care about details and the only thing he wants is to ravish you. He pushes you on the mattress and climbs over you, ruthlessly attacking your lips and neck with his mouth. He uses both teeth and tongue to abuse your skin, deliberately targeting your weak spots to elicit sweet noises from you.

He steals a few side glances towards Seungcheol, who is on the brink of tears from being edged for so long, droplets of sweat running down his flushed skin. The irrational, needy part of his brain wants to jump on the bed and kick Wonwoo outside, while keeping you all to himself. But he knows better than disobeying a pissed off Wonwoo.

Wonwoo pulls you by the arms and makes you sit on your knees facing Seungcheol, while he sits behind you, chest touching your back.

“Let’s give our baby boy a show, shall we?” He whispers in your ear and you nod, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo caresses your body with his hands, over your stomach and reaches your covered breasts. He hooks his fingers in the lace of your bra, tugging it harshly to let your mounds bounce out of the undergarment, a small ripping sound reaching your ears. 

“Ease off the lace!” You whine, but he grabs your chin with his hand, the other glued on your chest.

“Act up and I’ll make sure you won’t cum at all, sunshine. Am I clear?”

“...yes Sir.” You sigh, 

“Good girl.” Wonwoo kisses your cheek and relaxes his grip on your chin. “Good girls always get rewarded.” He murmurs in your ear, his hand descending lower and lower.

You let out a small moan when your boyfriend’s hand palms over your clothed pussy, slowly rubbing the lace hiding your clit.

“I can already tell you’re excited about this, sunshine. Soaking through your underwear like the needy little thing you are.” Wonwoo’s lips are glued on your ear.

“Please touch me more, Sir.” You whine, looking right into Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I didn’t hear you well, darling.” The dark haired man chuckles.

“Just touch her, you asshole.” Seungcheol groans, his cock twitching like crazy again.

“You don’t get to speak a damn word.” Wonwoo grits his teeth.

“Wonu, please!” You cry out, “I need you so bad, I’m gonna lose it!”

“You goddamn little shits.” He pushes you on the bed and gets up, standing next to Seungcheol.

“You want to get fucked? Now’s your chance.” He grips the blond man’s hair and lifts him off the knotted toy, practically throwing him on the bed like a ragdoll.

“Ouch, that hurt, you fucker!” Seungcheol snarls at Wonwoo, but the younger man pins him down on the mattress, despite being less muscular.

“Playtime’s over, baby boy. My turn now.” He discards his boxers, cock slapping against his stomach, bright red and leaking.

“Funny how you’re trying to act all dominant yet you’re leaking more than a broken faucet.” Seungcheol snickers, spreading his legs apart.

Wonwoo glances at you and offers you his hand to help you get up. You take it with a smirk and he positions you right between Seungcheol’s legs.

“You know what to do. And remember - don’t let him have his way with you.”

“Gotcha.” You grin devilishly.

“Princess, do you seriously think you can dom me? Please be real now.” Seungcheol laughs, but his laughter is cut short when he sees Wonwoo hovering right above his face.

“No. But we can dom you.”

You put your hands under Seungcheol’s knees and push his thighs apart to make room for yourself, putting him in a mating press instead of the opposite that usually happens in the bedroom. You position yourself right over his tip and slowly slide your pussy down his length, until it has completely disappeared inside you.

“O-Oh….Fuck, Princess, didn’t see that coming.” The blond man’s mouth goes slack from the novel sensation.

“God, no wonder you like this position so much.” You moan and start moving your hips the same way one of your boyfriends usually fuck you stupid.

Seungcheol throws his head back and grins when he sees Wonwoo pumping his cock with his hand, the tip dangerously close to his cheek.

“What are you waiting for, Wonu?” The older man snickers and moves his hand to touch his boyfriend’s shaft, but Wonwoo pins his wrists down and lets his cock rub the plush lips.

“For the right moment to shut you up.”

Wonwoo slides his cock inside and starts fucking Seungcheol’s throat harshly, finally letting out his pent up frustrations. 

“Don’t be so h-harsh on him, Wonu, he might choke.” You point out the gagging, sloppy noises coming from above.

“Don’t worry, he can take it. Isn’t that right, baby boy?” Wonwoo takes off his cock for a few seconds.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol coughs a bit, but regains his breath like a pro, “Just make sure to fuck me like you both mean it, you weaklings.”

The comment makes you and Wonwoo’s blood boil like molten lava and you climb over Seungcheol’s body to push his thighs further apart and fuck him like a bitch in heat.

“That’s it, sunshine. Fuck him like the whore he is.” Wonwoo grunts as he facefucks your (and his) boyfriend, putting one hand on his throat to squeeze it ever so slightly.

“Shit, this feels so damn great,” you moan out loud as you ride his cock, “I can feel him twitching inside me, he’s close.”

“Of course he is,” Wonwoo leans closer and gives you a quick kiss, “Nobody could ever resist your beautiful pussy, sunshine. Especially us.”

Seungcheol starts moaning around the shaft bullying his mouth and he wraps his thick thighs around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Oof- God, he’s so damn desperate to cum.” You chuckle and run your hands over his torso to rile him up even further.

“Don’t stop until you are fully satisfied, Y/N. Baby boy is here to take whatever we’re going to give him.”  

Your pussy stays glued on Seungcheol’s cock, rubbing it like a tight fleshlight until it starts milking him dry, sucking globs after globs of cum. The muscles of his thighs twitch behind your waist and his fists clench on the mattress, the shocks of his orgasm torturing his body.

Wonwoo detaches his hips away from Seungcheol’s mouth, letting the man breathe and spew a string of moans and curses.

“Princess, please, s-slow down! You’re- ah, fuck!” He whines loudly, tears stinging his eyes.

“She won’t stop until she has had her fill, baby boy.” Wonwoo digs his nails in Seungcheol’s wrists, “And don’t even try to stop her. Am I clear?”

“Shit- Yes, Sir.”

You rhythmically bounce your hips on top of his dick, your inner thighs beginning to burn from exhaustion and a thick, milky ring forms around your entrance. You can feel your own climax inch closer and closer, the pattern of your movements growing sloppier by the second.

“S-Sir I’m gonna cum, God I’m so close!” You cry out and plant your palms on the toned pair of pecs underneath you.

“Go on, sunshine. You earned this orgasm all on your own, you and your capable pussy.” Wonwoo stares at you with hungry eyes, watching you fall apart on the blond man’s cock.

Your eyes nearly roll in the back of your skull when you finally cum and you would be lying if you said it isn’t one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. You’re certain your brain has stopped working and you probably look like a lust-crazed animal.

“That’s it, sunshine. Ride it all out.” The dark haired man presses a kiss on the column of your neck, while Seungcheol is writhing and shaking under the two of you.

“I’m so….full.” You sigh in satisfaction and you feel the meaty legs around your lower back relaxing around you and plopping down on the bed. You carefully lift yourself off his lap and let out a long drawn moan when a sticky trail of cum runs down your thigh.

“God, I’m so spent.” Seungcheol groans, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Already? That’s too bad.” Wonwoo scoffs and flips his boyfriend face down on the sheets. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

“And I thought you had completely forgotten.” Seungcheol grins and bumps his ass directly on Wonwoo’s hardened dick. “Come on, don’t you want to fuck my ass already?”

You sit back on the headboard, your fingers ghosting over your chest and clit, your gaze entirely focused on your boyfriends.

“We even have an audience, pretty boy. I think you should hurry up and stick it in.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he lines up his cock and slowly pushes in, until he’s balls deep.

“Enjoy the show, sunshine.”

The tall man grips Seungcheol’s waist and begins thrusting slowly inside him, grunting at the tight sensation around his cock. 

“How are you still tight after sitting on that monstrosity for so long?”

“Can’t betray my secrets like that.” The blond man sends a wink towards you.

“Wonu, go faster.” You say with a demanding tone, your fingers working circles on your clit.

“You heard the princess - Put your back into it, pretty boy.” 

“Damn you both, fucking brats.” Wonwoo uses one hand to fist Seungcheol’s hair and keep his head down, now towering over him. He pistons his hips against his boyfriend’s ass hard enough to make it bounce repeatedly, smacking noises filling the room.

“Fuck - That’s what I’m t-talking about.” Seungcheol grips the sheets, lips parted open and moans spilling freely.

Your whines match your boyfriend’s moans, your hands working out your pussy at the same speed Wonwoo is thrusting. Two of your digits are covered in the cum left inside you from previously riding Seungcheol, acting as the perfect lube.

“Ass made in Heaven, damnit,” Wonwoo catches his bottom lip with his teeth, “Made to be railed by none other than me.”

“My toys would like to disagree.” Seungcheol half moans and the snarky comment earns him a slap on the ass, forcing him to whimper.

“The only noises I want to hear from you are whimpers and moans, you whore.” 

Wonwoo gets rougher with his thrusts, his hand pulling Seungcheol’s hair by the roots, lifting his head to make him face you. “Now, I want you to look at her while I’m fucking you stupid and give her the most cunt-watering expression you have.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Seungcheol breathes out, a fresh layer of sweat adorning his body.

Wonwoo delivers full-bodied thrusts, pulling and pushing his cock until the tip is barely inside and then fully sheathed again, knocking the air out of Seungcheol’s lungs. Salty tears cascade his cheeks, his body jerking forward with each movement.

“W-Wonu, you’re being too r-rough with him.” You comment shakily, two of your fingers rapidly plunging into your weeping cunt

“Rough, you say? Do you want me to slow down, baby boy?” Wonwoo asks his boyfriend, halting his hips.

“N-No, please don’t, please don’t stop, fuck!” Seungcheol pushes his ass back, chasing the stimulation.

“See, sunshine? Baby boy likes it rough and sloppy - and so do you.”

“I-”

“Keep your beautiful pussy stuffed until we’re done, will you?”

“Yes, yes Sir.” You nod furiously as you try to push back your orgasm.

“W-Won’t be too long until then,” Wonwoo groans loudly, “I’m almost there, fuck.”

“Please do it inside, please!” Seungcheol begs loudly, his body nearly giving out.

“Fuck, take it all, slut, all yours.” Wonwoo curses in his ear and finally topples over the edge, dumping a part of his load in his boyfriend’s hole. He takes out his cock, giving it a few more pumps to splatter the remnants of his climax all over Seungcheol’s ass. 

The sight before you makes your head spin with more arousal and your walls clench around your fingers, your own orgasm washing over you and sending you to cloud nine.

For a good few minutes, mixed heavy breaths are all the three of you can hear. It’s clear as daylight that all three of you are beyond tired and barely able to move.

“My body hurts everywhere.” Seungcheol whines in defeat.

“Mine too.” You agree.

“I’m afraid both of you need to get up,” Wonwoo stretches his back, “We need to change the sheets, they’re fucked.”

“So are we, dumbass.” The blond man grimaces in pain.

“I am fully aware,” Wonwoo tries to lift Seungcheol up and you right after, “Now get up, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“You haven’t even prepared a bath!” You pout your lips in protest.

“Really going through the princess act, don’t you?” He lifts you in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, gently placing you on the edge of the tub. 

“As if you don’t like treating me like one.” You grin playfully.

“I would say this is Cheol’s duty, but I love you a little too much to not treat you like a princess.” He presses a kiss on your cheek and lets the water run. “Mind checking the water until I’m back with him?”

“Not at all.” You reply with a smile and he leaves the bathroom to return to the crime scene.

To his surprise, Wonwoo finds Seungcheol standing up and removing the dirty sheets, the skin on his ass and thighs stained from cum streaks.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t let you do all the work now.” The blond man picks up the sheets and the used toy from the floor. As soon as he takes a couple more steps towards the door, he can feel his legs screaming in pain.

“Ow fuck!”

“Whoa, careful!” Wonwoo sweeps at the right moment and catches him before falling, “Can you please not be so fucking stubborn?”

“But-”

“No buts.” He throws Seungcheol’s arm over his shoulder, “I need to get your ass to the bathroom.”

“What are you doing? The bath is ready!” You yell from the corridor.

“Coming!” Wonwoo yells back.

“Well, at least now we’re even, right?” Seungcheol gives a silly wink towards the dark haired man.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Wonwoo snorts as he helps the older man out of the bedroom.

“After being fucked like this? Definitely.”

“Stupid and incorrigible.”

“And hot and rich and-”

Wonwoo cuts him off with a quick kiss on the lips, catching him off guard.

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

Seungcheol flashes a toothy grin and runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Yes, Sir.”

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Jake Lockley and Frank Castle gives me the same kind of vibe

Marc Spector and Matt Murdock gives me the same kind of vibe

Steven Grant and Peter Parker gives me the same kind of vibe

[sl-walker]

OTW Candidate Anh P.

I had a very long and interesting discussion with OTW-board candidate Anh P.

They tracked me down because they wanted to talk about how @squidgiepdx and I got otw-a working (for SquidgeWorld Archive and Ad Astra Fanfiction) and what we might suggest to make otw-archive more easily deployable to other, independent archives.  What might make it easier to use.  It was a really productive conversation, too, enough that Walter and I have decided to start tackling the setup documentation from the outside to see if we can’t make it as easy as possible for others to deploy otw-archive, and to test a few things we think might make it more not-OTW userfriendly.  (Like changing the hard-coding of OTW/AO3 to something that can be configured from the local.yml file.)

Anh P. is Vietnamese, very aware of the situation re: racism, AI, and the consequences of PAC being overridden.  They’ve been a volunteer for both Fanlore and Open Doors and have been for long enough to be able to run for board, but not so long that they’re completely assimilated.  They also have deep connections to the pan-Asian fan communities, including those currently marginalized by OTW’s present administrative structures.

Mostly, I'm impressed as hell that they not only wanted to talk to two people who have definite Opinions on OTW, but were genuinely and actively seeking our thoughts, good or bad, about what we would suggest to make the software more easily used by others seeking to do the same as we did.

I know I don't have a real stake in the debate over racism, being white and American and unable to understand the lived experiences of those who suffer it both in everyday life and in fandom, but they made excellent points about how decentralizing fandom and otherwise helping people be able to curate their own, inclusive spaces with their own rules might help with that.

They showed me a script a Chinese user made which is frankly brilliant to translate the AO3 Work posting page, and which could easily be translated to other languages, it’s so intuitive.

The part that sent my eyebrows up was their desire to use OTW's platform to help support independent fan archives in order to keep them afloat, rather than just let them sink and import them to AO3 via Open Doors, including not-Anglosphere archives and communities.

So, take it as you will, but I was very impressed someone was doing some of the harder legwork and seeking outside opinions, especially opinions that aren’t necessarily OTW-friendly, and with an eye towards actual measurable hard action that can be taken to start addressing some of the problems OTW is having right now.

[olderthannetfic]

I have a question. I’m new to the discourse around fanfiction & censorship, so I was curious about what the general consensus regarding fic about underaged characters in live action media was. Underage is my biggest squick, but I feel pretty neutral about how people write/draw smut of cartoon characters, as they barely register as human for me. Characters played by actual child actors though… I guess I’m just wondering what’s going through the heads of people who write that stuff? Or minor rpf for that matter. What is appealing about it? I’m willing suspend my disbelief & accept that they don’t actually want to abuse kids, but like, what is fulfilling about that fantasy? I’m not in favor of censorship or arresting anyone over a fictional story, but I just can’t wrap my head around it.

--

That's quite a failure of imagination there, anon.

Other people are not you, and they don't necessarily have this squick. That's the main answer.

From people who don't try to problematize this, there isn't really any discourse. Fiction is fiction.

Cartoon characters register as people to plenty of viewers. (And moron antis think cartoon characters count just as much as live action ones when it comes to screaming about problematicness.) Actors playing teenagers are often in their 20s. Coming of age novels dealing with sexuality have been normal all over the world since forever.

--

But let's start with some low hanging fruit:

If you're 17 years + 364 days, you're below the age of consent lots of places. Do you, anon, honestly think it's weird to be into someone one day before their 18th birthday but not the day after? What if you live somewhere where the age of consent is 16? Is it still weird to be into 17-year-olds from places where the age of consent is 18?

Most people remember being teenagers. They may feel nostalgic. They may want to imagine the nice teenage experiences they never got to have.

Lots of fic writers are currently teenagers. Not as many as ageist online spaces think, but still quite a lot. Is it weirder for a 15-year-old to have a crush on a 15-year-old than a 40-year-old?

"They looked 18, Your Honor" is a weak-ass excuse for fucking underage people in real life, but that's not the same as finding characters on your tv hot. Not only are the actors usually above 18 because filming underage actors is a fucking nightmare logistically due to work constraints, but a lot of younger actors are often made up in ways that make them look like they could be way older. People also vary widely in how they look at various ages.

If you can accept that lust exists and is valid, you can accept that lots of people will see some teen and think they're hot. There isn't some specific categorical difference in how all teenagers look and how all 20-somethings look.

Doing something about it in real life and doing something about it in fiction are different.

--

Now, as for "child actors", that term is used for a wide variety of ages, but let's assume you mean Stranger Things wank, like most people moaning about underage actor RPF do, so we're talking about tweens who genuinely do look pretty young to grown-ass adults.

The first thing I have to ask you is why the fuck you would imagine that writers identify with some adult fucking these kids? It's far, far more likely that they identify with the characters themselves or the actors.

Why would they identify with them? It could be anything from working through their own trauma at a similar age to just liking the vibe of a character because of how the show is written.

Lots of people's brains barf out dark scenarios 24/7 without them ever having experienced any major trauma and without it meaning anything much. Some people channel that into fiction.

If you are a boring person who has both a vanilla brain and no imagination, this might seem surprising to you, but it shouldn't.

--

Moreover, your ask implies that underage fic is highly sexual or maybe coercive or something, but you haven't actually stated that. Are we talking about rapefic of 5-year-olds or about someone writing the Stranger Things characters holding hands?

Are you just not sexual at all, anon? Personally, I went from zero to MEGA HORNY at thirteen and a half. It was like a switch flipped. Sure, I wasn't getting any action because I was a zit-covered and socially incompetent 13-year-old, but I was definitely interested.

It's not strange that an artist or author of whatever sort would explore puberty in their art. It's not strange that they'd remember their own sexual awakening or that this awakening would be long before age 18.

It's also not strange if people write super dark shit about small children because it being extreme and taboo and horrible is often the point of art.

--

You're "willing to suspend disbelief"? How magnanimous! How generous!

Seriously, anon?!

The way you've phrased this question makes it sound like you have a brain the size of a walnut.

Would you ask such a stupid question in such an offensively loaded manner about all the coming of age novels that are considered Great Literature™? Would you ask why YA exists?

And if you wouldn't, why is it that amateur writing by women and sexual minorities makes you nervous when mainstream-approved things don't?

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

Warning: this chapter contains smut

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 15

“Fuck baby!” They could hear from across the corridor.

“Are they always so loud?” Lip asked raising his head from in between Desna’s legs.

Lip had to help Desna with her physics homework, so she had asked him to come over. They had studied for more than an hour, before they had started to kiss and touch each other, until she found herself laying on her bed as Lip started to eat her out.

It was thrilling because both Veronica and Kev were in the house. But soon they’ve realized that they were having sex as well. They could hear laughters and dirty talks and the sound the bed was making.

“It’s like watching porn,” she said chuckling, before shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t mind.”

Lip smirked, “You like to listen?” He asked amused.

“Let’s say it’s useful when you’re not here,” she said passing a hand in his hair, “Now, please can you make me cum?” She asked earning a smirk from him, that didn’t have to hear it twice to put his mouth on her again. Desna closed her eyes as he used his tongue, licking her clit so deliciously good.

“It’s thanks to them that you have so many ideas?” He asked suddenly making her groan, as she looked at him with a glare.

“We’ve got a computer,” she answered shortly, “Now, please,” She said moving her hips in her direction. He smirked at her neediness, bringing his fingers to touch her, rubbing in small circles. His action were making her bit her lip, so not to attract V and Kev’s attention.

“Is V still doing that thing on internet?” He asked keep rubbing her.

“Oh yeah,” she moaned, “It make some extra money- fuck!” She gasped when he entered her with one of his fingers.

“That’s pretty hot,” he said, smirking up at her, “Ever have you think to try it?”

“Doing that?” She asked curiously.

He entered her with another finger, “Fuck, Lip!” She tried to keep her voice down, V and Kev were quite protective over her.

“Record yourself,” he said moving his fingers, before sucking on her clit again.

“Shit! No,” she moaned her hand gripping his hair making him groan against her, “Fuck,” she panted moving her hips.

“It would be a sight,” he said then licking again.

Desna giggled, “For you, or with you?”

He looked up at her, “Why? You’d do that?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “It depends how hard you can make me cum,” a smirked appeared on her lips, just before he took her hips, making her turn on her stomach, then he yanked back so that her knees would touch the ground, pushing her chest on the mattress.

“You really what a video, eh?” She teased as she heard him open the zipper of his pans, positioning himself at her entrance.

“I want to fuck you,” he said snapping his hips forward entering her completly.

“Fuck,” she groaned, face pushed against the covers, to try and mutter the sounds.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he moaned, thrusting in her hard. A yelp left her lips. His pace was getting faster, gripping her hips so to guide her better as he wanted her.

“Shit, fuck!” She cursed gripping the covers, hard trying to release some pleasure, “Don’t stop, please!” She begged.

“I love to see you beg,” he said bringing one of his hands on her front starting to rub her clit. Desna almost screamed for the pleasure that she was feeling, moving her hips as best as she could to chase her release.

“You like that?” He asked, making her moan, his thrusts and his fingers moving perfectly together, “You like that?”

“God, I’m there!” She man desperately, “Lip, I’m fucking there,” this made him thrust in her hard, every time he hit her, her stomach went flat on the mattress, her eyes closed and her mouth ajar.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moaned, joining her, snapping his hips a few more times before they both climaxed. Desna felt both her legs and arms weak as she remained in that position. Lip, once had ride out their orgasms, had pulled out of her, panting in her ear, giving her kisses on the shoulder.

“Fuck this was amazing,” he said, giving her another kiss.

“We should get our pants on, now,” she said, her breath still labored, “I can’t hear them anymore.”

They both pulled their pants back on as fast as they could, Kev was unpredictable, he could enter any room in any moment.

She was fixing her hair when Lip took her head in his hands to pull her in for a kiss. She smiled against his lips, bringing her arms around his neck, while he made her stranded his lap.

“Behave,” she whispered against his mouth, he smirked lightly biting at her lips.

“Like always,” he said making her giggle.

“Thanks for the help with my homework,” she said caressing his hair, “You’re truly the smartest person I know.”

“Oh, I like your compliments,” he said, getting cocky, “Have I told you that I took the admission test for university for a guy in only an hour and forty minutes?”

Desna looked at him with wide eyes, “Really?” He nodded giving a peck to her neck. Lips was trying to make extra money doing people’s homework or going to take their tests for the admission at the university for them. For what she knew everyone that he had taken the tests for had got admitted with the maximum of the score.

“I’m waiting for your compliments,” he said pulling back just a little.

“Compliments?” She asked with a giggle, “Lip this is amazing!” She exclaimed, before caressing his cheek, “You are amazing.”

He smiled sweetly up at her, “Thank you,” he said observing her leaning forward.

“Have I ever told you, that when you got all intelligently smartass on people, turns me on?”

He groaned, “You’ve said behave,” he protested before bringing her closer to kiss her lips. One of his hands into her hair, while the other was around her waist. Suddenly they heard steps on the stairs, so Desna was quick to get down from his lap, and turning to look at the book on the low coffe table she had in her room. When V opened the door, Lip had moved next to Desna, starting to explain some physics things that she had no idea about.

“You guys need anything?” She asked, but they looked at each other shaking their heads.

“We’re good V,” Desna said with a smile, and Veronica nodded, before putting a hand on her hips, looking at Lip.

“How’s Debbie?” V asked, “Bringing back Ginger was hard on her.”

“She is acting pretty restless,” he answered, “But she’ll be alright,” V nodded her head, before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

“Is she very upset?” Desna asked turning to Lip.

“Yeah,” he said rubbing his eyes, “She’s trying to keep doing all the thing she had done with Ginger, but she gets angry very easily if we don’t play along.”

Poor Debbie, she had finally had an afoul figure that had been even remotely motherly to her, and see her being taken away it must have been a shock. Debbie was a sensitive girl.

“Maybe I could spend some time with her, when I'm free,” she suggested, and Lip’s eyes searched for hers.

“Really?” He asked softly and she nodded. Then she felt his fingers bring a strand of hair behind her ear, “You are so nice,” he muttered softly, “How?”

Desna shrugged her shoulders, “Not everything has to be shitty,” Lip smiled at her before kissing her again.

“Is it fun?” Asked Desna, looking at Veronica filming herself as she did the choirs without the shirt.

“Yeah,” she said making a sexy movement, “And it pays, so it’s fine.”

“Since we are talking about that,” as Desna spoke V got stiff turning to her.

“You’re not doing it,” she exclaimed. Desna smiled.

“I wasn’t exactly thinking about this, but I want to contribute in earning money,” Desna explained, “You work at the retirement home, and you do this, and Kev works at the Alibi and sell pot-“

“Just a little amount,” Veronica said.

“Still, I’d like to do something as well,” she said shrugging her shoulders.

“Babe, you already work at the Alibi when they need it,” Veronica insisted, “Where’d you wanna work?”

Desna shrugged her shoulders, “I’m still thinking about it,” she admitted, “I wanted to talk to you first.”

Veronica put back on a robe and walked towards the camera, to turn it off. Then she turned to Desna.

“You are becoming an adult,” she said with a proud smile, “If you want to do that, I won’t stop you. But nothing sexual,” she said eyeing the computer, “You’re to young for that.”

“You just said I’m an adult,” Desna said sarcastically.

“You’ll forever be too young for that,” Veronica answered, “Got it?”

Desna nodded her head, “Yes, ma’am,” she answered. V shook her head with a smile before heading to the bathroom to get change. In the mean time, Desna went to her room, to finish some homework.

She was studying when her phone went off. A frown appeared on her face when she read that it was an unknown number.

“Hello?” She asked unsurely putting the phone against her ear.

“Bad timing?” Lip’s voice came from the other side, making her smile.

“When I’m studying math is always a bad timing,” her answer made him chuckle, “How’s your research going?”

“I’m meeting Ian, we’ll go to an old dead lady’s maybe I’ll get it,” Lip wanted to go to find a water heater for the house since theirs had broken down.

“That’s cool,” she said with a smile, then she remembered the phone number, “Do you have a new cell phone?” She asked curiously and he chuckled.

“No,” he said, “I’ve found it in the cafeteria.”

“It’ll be easier to communicate,” she said laying down on her bed. Usually they had to wait for Fiona to lend him the only one that they had.

“No more deleting messages,” he said, before taking a breath, “Listen, I wanted um… to ask you if you’re free tomorrow,” he asked.

“I think so, yes…,” she answered, “Why?”

“Just, if you wanted to hang out,” he said, “I don’t think I can make it, today. I’m seeing Karen.”

Desna did all her could not to roll her eyes, she didn’t even know why. It was not like Lip could see her. But probably because she refused to always feel anger when that name was brought up. He wanted both of them, and both of them wanted him, at that point was only a matter of time.

Let’s see who holds on tighter, Desna thought to herself.

“Sure, I’m in for tomorrow,” she said with a cheerful voice.

“Really?” He asked and she hummed back, “Alright. Tomorrow at three nobody’s going to be home, we could go back together from school and go to mine,” he suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” Desna answered.

“I really like the red panties,” he said and she chuckled.

“Oh really?” She said, “So, what if I wore them on now?”

She heard him let out a low chuckle, “I’d like a picture, then,” she giggled, biting her lips.

“What if I had no panties at all?”

“Fuck,” he said, and she laughed again, she knew Lip was already flustered, “Send it now!”

“Sorry” She said not sorry at all, “You choose to have blond today.”

“Des…” but she interrupted him.

“But who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow,” she said with a smirk, “Red panties on, or no panties at all. You’re going to figure it out.”

“You are a little tease, you know that” Lip said, she could feel the smile on his lips by his voice, “Oh, I gotta go, Ian’s here, call you later.”

“Bye,” she whispered ending the call.

She had decided that she would not have let Karen into whatever was happening with Lip. Veronica always told her how boys where stupid, and maybe in someway that was how Lip was. He wanted to fuck both of them, it was fine to Desna as it was, she planned on stay in Lip’s life for long, and no Karen Jackson would have made her go away.

“V!” Suddenly she could hear Fiona’s voice echoing in the house.

“I’m in the bathroom!” Veronica answered. Desna frowned, getting up from her back, to exit her room. When she did she saw Fiona passed by her.

“Hey, Des,” she said with a nervous smile before heading down the stairs.

“Hey…” Desna said the confusion never leaving her face. And it only grew when V came out of the bathroom with a little boy, around two or three, his hair were blond and his eyes were big and blue.

“Who’s that?” She asked and V took a breath.

“I have no fucking idea.”

******

Tag List: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit

If you want to be add at the tag list just let me know.

And if you liked this chapter leave an ♥️ and reblog.

[errygarcha]

What if he doesn’t want to marry me?

An indulgent, whimsical Quinn Hughes fanfiction, where a drunk bachelorette wonders if her adoring fiancee doesn’t want to marry her.

Erica knew that Quinn loved her. He told her nearly every morning after all, which one would assume it made it hard to forget. Everyone who knew Erica and Quinn knew about the deep, mutual, exclusive admiration they held each other in. Which made it strange, how Erica was currently on the floor of an Orlando pub bathroom, in tears. After all, what type of bachelorette didn't have a mental breakdown over whether or not her fiancee and significant other of five years loved her in the week prior to her wedding?

“But what if he doesn't love me? What if he regrets proposing to me? What if something happens, what if we have to cancel the wedding?” Erica wailed, while kneeling next to the sink. Beside her were two of her bridesmaids, Anna and Gabby. Gabby, being the only one of the trio to maintain her sobriety throughout the night, acted as the voice of reason. “That man loves you so much. If anything, HE should be the one worried that you will cancel the wedding!” Gabby said, grabbing some napkins from the dispenser by the sink

“FOR REAL” Anna all but shouted. “Actually, we should facetime him, so he can know that you're too hot to marry him and YOu are calling off the wedding before he can!” Anna exclaimed triumphantly, proud of her point. Erica sat there blankly, drunkenly processing Anna’s point. While Erica’s reaction was delayed due to her stupor, Gabby’s certainly was not. “Anna, that is not what Erica was saying” Gabby said with a laugh, finding humor in the antics. However, Gabby was now not by the sink, but in a bathroom stall. Gabby did not see Anna pulling Erica’s phone out of her purse, holding it up to her face to unlock it. Before Gabby had any idea what the girls were up to, Quinn had already picked up the call.

Quinn Hughes was never the type to make comments or try to control his girlfriends actions. Maybe that's why Erica and Quinn worked so well together. They both held each other in such a high regard, placing so much trust in the other, that there never was an inkling of insecurity or doubt. However, Quinn was not going to lie. When Erica had told him of her bachelorette party plans in Orlando, he was worried. Not that he was scared she was going to cheat on him or anything, he knew how serious Erica was in their relationship. But he also knew Erica’s friends, and the predicaments they seemed to find themselves in after they dabbled in a bar or too.

Needless to say, when he answered his phone, he was not surprised to see Anna’s face instead of his dear Erica’s. “Hi Quinnnnn!” Anna slurred. “Hello Anna,” Quinn replied. “How are you?” he asked. “I’M perfectly perfect and fine,” Anna happily shared. “Erica doesn’t want you to break up with her ever, so she is going to break up with you first.” Anna shared, before promptly hanging up the call. 

“Done!” She said, with a self gratified smile. Miss girl had no idea what she did, but she was more than happy to simply be involved. 

The silence of the bathroom was short lived as Gabby’s phone began to ring. Now, she was out of the stall and washing her hands. Taking care of her two drunk friends was much like having toddlers to tend to. After a few seconds, when her hands were washed and dried, Gabby answered the phone, unsurprised to hear Quinnn’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey, Gabby’” Quinn leads “Oh my god, Quinn” Gabby breathes out, the two exchange a relieved, awkward chuckle. “Not meaning to steal bachelorette time, but what are you guys up to?” Quinn felt, for lack of a better term, douchey. After all, what kind of guy calls his fiance's bridesmaids on a bachelorette trip? A douchey, clingy one. “More like what are you guys down too, Erica and Anna are on the floor in this bar’s bathroom.” “Can I talk to her” Quinn asked. Truth be told, he did miss his intended. In a few short weeks, they are meant to walk down the aisle, become one, and all that jazz. It is very natural that he had a few questions about any declaration of these plans being altered. 

“Erica, I have Quinn on the phone, he wants to talk to you” Gabby said, while crouching down next to Erica on the floor. The duo became a trio, and all three women were now on the bathroom floor. “Oh no, what if he doesn’t like me, what if he's calling me to say he doesn’t like me anymore…” Erica slurred together, but she did manage to grab Gabby’s phone from her outstretched arm.n

“Baby, are you there?” Quinn asked gently, his words slightly terse, but his tone full of love. “QUINNIE” Erica yelped, “I’m here” she replied, while closing her eyes and leaning against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom. You’re NOT going to throw up, you’re NOT going to throw up. The mantra echoed against the walls of Erica’s head.

“How are you doing, darling?” Quinn inquired. All he wanted was his fiancee with him, so he could make sure she was safe. And the other girls too, lord knows what Erica and her bridesmaids have gotten up to in Florida. “I am good, my love, what are you?” she naturally replied. Of course, she meant how are you, or maybe ‘what are you up to’. But Quinn was grateful to hear her voice. 

“I’ve been good. So I am going out on a limb here and saying that the wedding is still on?” Comedic lilt gilded his words. Quinn wasn’t sure he’d ever master how to talk to drunk girls on bathroom floors. That craft was better left to the masters, the other drunk girls on bathroom floors. God, where they wonder to behold. 

“Only if you want, like I don’t want you to be unhappappappy” Erica rambled, before coming to a slightly percussive end. “My love, why would I not want to marry you?” Quinn asked. He was curious about her response. Erica usually presented herself as confident, and usually was very self assured. “Well I don’t know, I’m very loud I don’t want you to feel like you’re marrying me out of duty or I don’t know” Erica replied. Well that certainly did not bring Quinn any clarity. 

“Babygirl, I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life. You are the only person in the world who I have shared every part of my physical, mental, and emotional being. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, unique and wonderful woman I have ever known. I would do anything for you, I am prepared to lay down my life for you. Erica Marie Connors, you are my life. I can’t wait for you to be Mrs. Hughes. I would do it right now if I could.”

Wow. Even in her drunken state, Erica was dazed with Quinn's profession. So dazed. So dizzyingly, subliminally, twirling dazed. The next sound Quinn heard was retching, a yelp, and a wail. After a few moments, he heard the third voice of the evening on the other end of the phone. “She’ll see you at the altar, Quinnie baby”

And just like Anna did earlier that night, she hung right up on the hockey player, without a second thought. 

Quinn couldn’t wait to stop wishing for his girlfriend. He wanted his wife.

[homenecromancer]

regarding this post, and the Dune sequels by Brian Herbert & Kevin J. Anderson

So I haven’t picked up any of these Dune followups in about twenty years, and for all I know, the books released in the intervening time are much better. And I’m operating off memory here.

But the main reason I’m content not going back is that… they’re not all that good. At best they’re about equal to some of the fanfiction I’ve read lately. At worst, there’s some deeply goofy worldbuilding and plot decisions. I should back up and give a little context.

The books I’m talking about here are written by a team of Brian Herbert (Frank’s son) and Kevin J. Anderson, who has written a lot of spinoff novels. I went to go check out his other work — he did a few Star Wars novels and three X Files novels, among others, and here is a very telling quote from his website, describing one of his original novels:

Unpretentious, unapologetic storytelling that transports busy readers to other worlds for a quick escape and fast-paced entertainment

Which… is both a perfect description of his writing and the absolute opposite of the Dune novels that Frank Herbert wrote. I’ll get back to this in a moment, because there’s another important detail: the Herbert+Anderson team, according to them, work from outlines and notes left by Frank Herbert before he died. So far they’ve gotten seventeen books out of these outlines and notes — Frank wrote six Dune novels.

OK. So. I do not envy the H+A team the effort required to imitate Frank Herbert and live up to his legacy — Dune and its sequels are dense books that interweave science fiction storytelling with politics and philosophy, all in a prose style that’s hard to mimic. I think they’re legitimately trying their best, and working on a compressed timeline compared to Frank. (The original six books were published over the course of twenty years — H+A have put out seventeen books in the 25 years since 1999, and they are not short.)

The problem is that, unless they’ve really switched things up, the H+A team put way heavier emphasis on the storytelling, and almost none on the politics and philosophy. So their Dune novels are much quicker reads than the originals! In my paperback edition, Dune takes about 150 pages of small type until the “action” begins — Herbert really takes his time setting up his characters and setting, and begins to explore his main theme of the risks of political power. And then the main characters find themselves in nonstop life-threatening peril.

I… do not recall the H+A Dune novels having themes in the same way. A lot happens, but like. Dune is constantly saying things to the reader about how, say, carefully-orchestrated plans can easily go awry in tragic fashion, and also there are dozens of memorable setpieces. The H+A Dune novels have memorable moments, but they all feel rather shallow. The deepest thing they’re asking you to consider is gonna be, like, “wouldn’t it be fucked up if weird robots ruled over people?” And yeah, that would be fucked up, but it doesn’t have the staying power of some of the weird ideas in Dune.

Anyway I don’t bear either Brian Herbert or Kevin J. Anderson any personal ill-will. Their Dune books just don’t do it for me the same way as the Frank Herbert originals.

Also Anderson’s writing process is interesting — I can’t seem to make this a proper link no matter what I do (????) but he discusses it on his blog at kjablog.com/dictating-writing-hiking . And that method explains a lot, to me — I don’t know about him, but I would not be able to imitate Frank Herbert’s prose style by dictation while hiking, even if I had the ability to revise later. Makes sense that the text of the H+A Dune novels sounds like Kevin J. Anderson more than it sounds like Frank Herbert.

Oh and fun fact I learned writing this: Kevin J. Anderson lives in my state. Wild.

[eli0004]

Levi's violent, belligerent actions do not mean that he is a "pessimist". Whenever Levi is violent, it is mostly to save his own life and the lives of others. It is true that his actions would be considered evil, but wouldn't you also choose violence if you were faced with a threat to harm you and your loved ones? Let us not forget that he did it out of necessity and in self-defense, not out of pleasure. His roughness is due to his difficult upbringing. I'm sure even he wouldn't want to be like that. I don't need to talk about his mentality, I don't think he would ever think anything pessimistic or cruel. I won't even say I don't think, he wouldn't think.

So on the contrary, he would be very disturbed if his partner had something evil in him, like if he was cruel, ruthless, deceitful, arrogant, selfishly pessimistic, not caring about other people's feelings, other people's lives, and so on.

So I don't understand why you people insist that he will not be with someone who is very optimistic. I believe he has a weakness for selfless, thoughtful people, people who have a purity of goodness in them and he will be drawn to them. Just like himself. I think he would admire people who have these qualities intact in this cruel world.

It's not for nothing that we say he is the most emotional person in the series and the heart of Sc he has a big indiscriminate heart.

And I want to say that this discourse of yours disturbs the people who ship Levi with their optimistic, innocent, weak characters/themselves, and their trust is shaken. It's not just you, there are so many such discourses, those who were upset because they believed that Levi would not like them, and they even say that they avoid reading fanfic, Hc, so as not to see discourses that would make them uncomfortable. Whereas hcs and fanfics are supposed to be about comfort and fun.

If I have to express my own opinion, he First of all, I think that the romance will progress depending on the plot and dynamics, regardless of the character of the partner. Levi is too complex a character to be reduced to criteria and rules. He would be with both an average, optimistic civilian and a soldier with a compassionate character with a pure heart who would not spoil his goodness in this cruel world. And more like that. But I don't think that a character like him, who is selfless, compassionate, values life, every life, cares about the dreams and feelings of others, can be with a cruel, arrogant, selfish character who harbors pessimism, who does not care about life and human life.

Anon, do you know what pessimism means?

A pessimist is a person who is inclined to expect poor outcomes. Someone who tends to see things from a glass half empty perspective, if you will. I am a pessimist, i have OCD and severe anxiety, I’ve always been very focused on all the ways that life could go wrong for me, and i worry about those outcomes a lot. Pessimism is not synonymous with Evil or violence, lots of people with depression or people who have been through or seen hard things are inclined to pessimism. The fact that you put pessimistic and cruel in the same sentence is actually wild.

Additionally, i wrote that he is a deeply emotional character who is very much “in his head” meaning he thinks a lot. I even talked about how he has a very high level of emotional maturity.

And, dear anon, that fifth paragraph💀

Did you know that tumblr has over 547 million users? I’m sure that somewhere in there, there are people who write Levi the way you, and apparently everyone you’re speaking on behalf of, want them to write him. I would encourage you to leave my blog and go find those people. Because you’re absolutely right, tumblr, especially the fanfiction community here, is a place for comfort and fun, so doesn’t this mean that those of us who write him like i do deserve to feel those things? It’s not mandatory that you read my content, and to say that my viewpoints make people uncomfortable to the point of not wanting to read fanfiction???? That’s crazy anon, wild, and honestly it’s terribly manipulative. Also i don’t care.

There are cruel and inhumane things happening everywhere, the world has a lot wrong with it at the moment, i am very involved in humanitarianism and activism. I find your passion for writing essays in fanfiction writer’s inboxes to defend a fictional character to be pretty impressive, but you should direct all that fire towards something that actually makes a difference.

“If i have to express my own opinion”

You don’t, actually, it was unwarranted, but regardless:

Sure, that’s definitely some great stuff you have there, and I’m sure people would love it if you wrote your own content surrounding those ideas. And finally, that last sentence…WHAT????

Anon please explain how you read “He likes someone who is genuine, trustworthy and dependable. Someone who has a strong sense of justice and empathy, who defends and advocates for others when they are unable to defend themselves.” And took from that “cruel, arrogant, and selfish character who harbors pessimism.”

Here’s a short story about something that happened to me last year:

My cat, whom I’ve had for almost nine years, became sick. I took him to the vet and they told me that since triage would take a while due to the amount of people who were there, I could go home and come pick him up when they called me. At the time i was 6 months pregnant and very tired so i went home and cried for several hours, as i was very upset that my cat wasn’t home with me, very upset that he was sick, and I was scared because, as a pessimist, i usually expect the worst outcome. My partner, however is an optimist, and his way of trying to help me was to tell me that everything would go well and that my cat would be fine. But that only served to irritate me, because it was so directly oppositional to my own way of thinking, that it felt like I was being lied to, or given false hope. I would’ve found more comfort in having him sit with me and think over my fears rationally: ex. sure he might be terminally ill, but he also might have just eaten something he shouldn’t have eaten. It turned out that his new wet food wasn’t agreeing with his stomach, so sure, he was fine, but sometimes my worries get in the way of my ability to see that.

A realist is a person who recognizes what is real or possible in a particular situation, and who accepts and deals with things as they really are.

Anyway…do with that what you will, i guess. I normally wouldn’t respond to messages like this but, wow, this was insane and i felt obligated to correct you.

[im-a-king-baby]

Hiii!

I loved ELYN so much! And one scene I would love you to comment on is in chapter 14 when they're out by the lake, and they talk about their futures and their public personas, and I guess they both help each other get to thinking about their options in new ways:

“The first thing you ever said to me was that you weren’t allowed to talk about politics.” Simon bends down to pick a rock up from the grass, turning it over between his fingers. “I guess I’m just saying if this debate is live and there’s no script then this is your chance to tell people your story. To show them what kind of king you’re going to be.” He tosses the stone once in his palm, then throws it into the lake."

I really loved how this got Wilhelm thinking about what he wanted, and how he could go about to get it.

Thanks a lot 💜

No, thank YOU a lot <3 <3.

(This meme is bonus content for ELYN/Everybody Loves You Now which you can read on AO3 here. This post below the cut will contain spoilers.)

So the VERY FIRST line of YR fanfiction I ever wrote was: ‘The first thing Wilhelm ever said to Simon was, "I’m not allowed to talk about politics." It was a wake-up call, a reminder, that Wilhelm will always belong to Sweden first.’ It was originally for a different fic, then I stole it for a Simon POV ELYN-scene which I might post someday (snippet below), but that sense of responsibility is definitely one of the core parts of this kind of contemporary royalty story that is interesting to me. So the beginning of that quote is definitely something that was in my mind from the very beginning.

And it’s interesting to talk about this scene (and chapters 13/14 in general) and that progression to Wilhelm’s decision because it was hardly in draft 1, which jumped from Candace to the debate with very little in between. And then I kept expanding it, and rewriting it a million times (and then my beta was like ‘this isn’t working’ about some parts and I rewrote them several more times.) and these chapters more than a lot of the others I had to step back and really be like ‘what am I trying to achieve here, what are my character arcs, how do I balance that?’

The most important part of ELYN (to me) was that losing the vote had to be a Choice that Wilhelm made. I’ve seen some debates about whether people want an ending where Wilhelm abdicates or where the monarchy is abolished and I always think it misses the nuance that if monarchy is abolished it should be because Wilhelm abolishes it. To me, that’s what makes it an empowered narrative, rather than a story about society rejecting a queer king. And in ELYN, the other key plotline is this reconnection between Wilhelm and Simon and how that pushes them both to break out of these boxes they’re stuck in. On Simon’s side, Wilhelm is a reminder of his past and a wake-up call to how not-okay Simon is now. Pre the writing of 13/14 Wilhelm did had some influence from Simon, breaking the rules and pushing back on his mother and Minou, but I wanted there to be a clear character beat that tied Simon's return to Wilhelm’s making the decision to call for a 'no' vote.

Then it was a case of reflecting on the parallels of their lives, which was mostly this theme of being voiceless. Simon not being able to sing his own songs, vs. Wilhelm being handed speeches to read out and having to stick to the Official Story. And this is where Simon is kind of ahead of Wilhelm, in that he’s already had his ‘fuck it, they can’t stop me’ moment singing at the concert, so he gets to take the advice-giving role, which is nice to balance out their interactions a bit more so it’s not Wilhelm helping Simon all the time.

(In case you’re interested, this is one of the notes I sent my beta with the final rewrite (which kind of shows how I was approaching this transition from a character development perspective): ‘I’ve tried to make the split more clear so that in 13 his action is avoiding the debate (passive) and in 14 he switches to actively using the debate to change the vote.’)

Bonus snippet, here is the line from paragraph one in the Simon hotel scene:

The wind is bitingly cold. “Thanks, tack, love you all,” he calls down. “Have a good night!” He shuts the window, draws the curtains like maybe they’ll leave if they can’t see him. They won’t leave. They were there this morning when he went to an interview, then a doctor about the scratch in his throat, then an outfit fitting for the charity show. The numbers fluctuate but they’re never gone. He wonders how Wilhelm got past them. There must be another entrance, one that someone has decided Simme isn’t allowed to use, because they want to reward the loyalty of the fans freezing their fucking toes off to get a glimpse of him. Wilhelm wouldn’t risk being seen by them. Wilhelm knows how important is is to maintain his image. The first thing Wilhelm ever said to Simon was, ‘I’m not supposed to talk about politics.’ A wake up call. A reminder. That Wilhelm will always belong to Sweden first. And now Simon knows a little of how that feels, to have the expectations of thousands of strangers resting on his shoulders. Fortunately Simme’s image is much easier to maintain. A bit of smoky eye, a smile that promises sex, a never ending stream of photoshoots where the clothes are more or less optional. It all comes naturally: start at the neck of the bottle and work down.

[likegoldintheair]

Hey! Promise I’m not coming into your ask box to cause trouble, I just saw your most recent post and that you were wanting to talk about it so I wanted to get your perspective on my thoughts about this s7 spec. It is a lovely thought, Buck getting reassurance from Eddie of his importance in his and Chris’ lives, and I’m not saying it shouldn’t happen (probably will based on the Shoulder pic we saw). However…it’s been done before. What I would find way more interesting than Buck being told he matters again and that being that is Buck actually realizing and believing it, maybe from a call or some other activity. And I’d really like that to be it lol, instead of it being recycled again in a future episode. People like Eddie, Maddie, and even Chris can tell him how much he means to them until the cows come home, but Buck needs to start believing it himself. IRL, ppl get tired of having to repeat themselves to somebody who is chronically insecure but not doing anything to change it (not saying Buck is, but he sure is portrayed that way in fanfiction). So I’m hoping the writers empower Buck to look in the mirror and see himself as the good flawed human he is rather than a massive fuck-up.

(and maybe there are scenes in the future where Buck is reassuring the Diaz boys how important they are to him, and they’re not an inconvenience no matter what’s going on in his life because that would feel realistic too. I know Buck shows them throw his actions, but it would be delicious to see it actually said onscreen)

Anyway, no pressure replying!

hi!

i am completely with you on the whole rehashing the whole eddie/chris/maddie reassuring buck of it all, and how it's been done before (because it has, a lot - like i said in that post, we've seen eddie tell buck this over and over again, but he just doesn't get it). i do think that we will get to see those kind of scenes/moments again though, especially if that one buck and eddie pic is anything to go by.

what i'm hoping for is that this time it'll lead to buck actually, conciously listening and taking in what it means and, y'know, finally stop questioning it or having this underlying fear of being abandoned etc. i don't think any one of those three conversations will magically solve anything for buck (and it's not on maddie, eddie or chris to solve it to begin with, even though their support is important - like you said, buck needs to come to this conclusion himself), but i think, depending on the context, the conversations can work as a final push to have him realize that his place is permanent.

it'll just get old and boring to see him have a breakdown again over the same thing and have eddie tell him again and again that he's important, and then rinse and repeat a few episodes later. he truly needs to sit down and deal with his shit, so to speak. i would love for his therapist to make a comeback, so that he can deal with his fears with professional help. really get to the nitty gritty of it all. that'd be 10/10 in my book, tbh.

and yes, fully agree on having buck actually tell both eddie and chris what they mean to him, and what an essential part they are in his life. i think they'd need to hear it, too, even if he does, as you said, show it a lot. just hearing it is nice too, sometimes, y'know.

anyways, hopefully this is somewhat coherent, i'm answering whilst making dinner, so it might be a bit all over the place. but thank you for sending me this!

[andipxndy-writes]

meet the writer: aj

(a.k.a. my writeblr intro, done properly)

heya!! i’ve had this blog for a while now, but i realised i haven’t ever actually done a proper intro on here, so here it is!! (also did i want the opportunity to make an aesthetic of myself??? absolutely. image made in canva and portrait on the left is from picrew, all other images were taken from unsplash)

my name is aj (she/her pronouns pls)!! i’m 26, black, and i live in the uk. i graduated from uni 3 years ago and currently work in lab admin, but i’ve been doing creative writing for 10+ years!! i’m currently trying to get back into reading by reading a book a month (i usually share the book i’m reading in the sidebar of my main blog, which i follow back with as this blog is a sideblog: @andipxndy), and i write a variety of fanfiction and original works (both based off my own characters and those i currently/have rp’d with in the past). i also take requests for fanfiction, which you can read about below the cut or in this post (i’ve made some changes which mean the post is not relevant atm)!! but in general i love being asked questions about my WIPs and my characters and basically any characters i write, because i love delving into character thoughts and doing character development (so please send me some!!).

this blog started off as a way for me to share my fanfiction writing, which is how i got into writing in the first place and how i came to love it, but now i’m wanting to expand some more share/talk about some of my original works too!! i write ya sci-fi in my original stuff, but i’m known to drift into romance, action-comedy and crime when it comes to fanfiction works. i’m also over on ao3 as andipxndy.

my main fanfic writing fandoms are abbott elementary and alex rider, just to keep things managable, but i also enjoy watching ncis, criminal minds and lockwood & co., and sometimes dive back into old favourite animes (k-on!! is my current anime obsession). i may be slow to write or respond to stuff but i DO enjoy diving into discussing fandom stuff too!! i also like playing video games like sims 4 (ea is a money grab pass it on) and cities skylines, and enjoy dnd and rping with friends!!

before this intro gets too long, here are my main WIPs:

power play (1st draft completed, left to stew)

the first original wip i planned, the story is intended to be part of a 5-book series about a 20-year-old who accidentally gives himself powers, and ends up drawn into the science underground whilst trying to save people that he may or may not have also accidentally given powers. and all whilst trying to appear completely normal to his mum and get a summer job whilst home from university.

the crossover (still working on 1st draft, is my main/november nano project)

this is an adaptation of an old rp au i had with one of my closest friends, adjusted to have new, original characters despite the same plotline. it follows a 17-year-old girl as she’s accidentally transported into a parallel universe, where her parents aren’t her parents and she doesn’t exist. in an attempt to get home, she ends up crossing paths with the people who are meant to be her family, and finds out that they’re all superheroes. insert drama and shenanigans here.

the rich life: a modern bourgeoise au (working on 1st draft, is my camp nano project)

a passion project that i’m completing for my rp partners, this au is split into a 3-book series following the lives of our characters in the upper class, those who work for them, and eventually their children, going through the drama of their lives and how they try so hard not to have it all end up in the press. that obviously doesn’t work.

fanfiction fics and requests (ongoing but this is technically a wip)

technically counts as a wip as i have a backlog of fics in progress to write and share for requesters (and some ideas i’ve had myself), but these are mainly either alex rider or abbott elementary fanfics that have been sent in via ask. you can see extra info below the cut after the next paragraph. my requests are currently closed, and i’m working through my backlog. the request(s) active for the forseeable future are:

will you be my maybe? - an abbott elementary fanfiction (gregory x janine - injury + fake dating)

anyway, this is all i’ve got for now!! i do take part in things like nanowrimo and camp nanowrimo, so if anyone takes part in those too i look forward to writing alongside you!! other than that, that’s about it!! i’ll be sharing snippets of my work, and maybe eventually you’ll even get aesthetics eventually!! i’ve you’ve read this far, i applaud you, but thank you so much for reading!! i’d love to get to know more writers on here, both inside and outside of fandom spaces, so please feel free to jump at me and send me asks and messages and stuff!!

~ aj xxx

(for more info on fanfiction stuff, read below the cut:)

i’ve been writing fanfiction for over 10 years, and as something so dear to my heart i can’t let it go - it’s helped me to develop my writing and character development skills!! i have, however, grown in the fandoms i write, so please see below for more info:

I WRITE FOR:

alex rider

abbot elementary (more specifically, gregory x janine. i ship only those two. with my whole heart.)

fics getting to know my original characters (oneshots)

(i realise that this is significantly cut down, but i have other projects in mind that require more of my time and can no longer spend as much time on requests!! for this, i apologise!!)

GENRES WRITTEN (not completely restricted):

family/friendship

romance

hurt/comfort

action/adventure

IMPORTANT TO NOTE:

MY REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED

all fanfics will be cross-posted to ao3

please give me up to a month to get fics written and posted - if not done within a month, feel free to message me about it [please DO NOT pester me about it] - i work and am also writing original things, so do not always have the time

i preferably write oneshots, though the occasional multi-chap will appear - a fic ends up longer, well, it happens 🤷🏾‍♀️

i am a rambler so you are almost always guaranteed a longer fic

please try not to give me word count limits or specifications on fics - they are discouraging

that being said, any writing requests/prompts fulfilled will most likely be 20k words or less (though they may be longer if the inspiration strikes, don’t hold me to it)

i do not write smut, or any nsfw other than possibly gore/torture/violence. this is a personal preference and i will not change my stance on it

if you have any triggers that you do not want included in the fic, please message me and inform me of this

i have a ko-fi! if you would like to tip/donate to me for any of my writings, check it out here

all fics may or may not include a level of humour/sarcasm - i’m not sorry for this

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

My...own take on Spider-Man rambling

Edit update I showed this crap to @kaijuguy19 first.

This is all copied from a draft from June 23rd, 2023. Which I will delete after posting this. This is what I have been talking about or hinting at. But I think I won’t really go through with it because even though I am being affected by outside opinions. But I feel like again, with a lot of different takes on this character. This is all just fanfiction, but I question if I should even go with this.

Especially with my weird mixed opinions on Sony’s Spider-Man Universe, my love and liking for certain adaptations such as the 70′s live action Spider-Man show. Along with Insomniac’s take on Spider-Man which is...LITERALLY WHAT I’M KIND OF DESCRIBING HERE. That my ideas aren’t really creatively new. Especially after playing the game recently which I have said in earlier posts.

Along with the idea of that I may have made Peter Parker more akin to Miguel O’Hara (The original comics version that is) but I had thought of him being literally the “Opposite” of Miguel in Across the Spider-Verse. And other changes I had wondered of having him get bitten by the spider at the age of 15 like in the 616 universe.

But the point being, this dude is a depressed man due to some hardships. But he’s one of the most human and caring people who is scared of losing people close to him. With this Peter’s character arc is learning to forgive himself for his uncle’s death, letting his guilt go & learning it’s okay to let them others in his life, that he doesn’t need to be alone. Even if there is danger being close to Spider-Man, he shouldn’t have to be alone in that responsibility.

And the fact I have imagined this Peter being on Miles’s side in Across the Spider-Verse. If the film was PG-13, he would say, “Fuck your canon.” taking the one F-bomb for the film and take on the entire Spider-Society and Miguel himself if he had to. I guess this idea is if RIPeter was a “Perfect” Spider-Man, but he was such a mess behind the mask when he was Peter Parker.

Anyway, I think I’ve said enough. I’ll let you all read the rest below the keep reading option. I really like Spider-Man. Whether it be comics, films, games, shows and whatever else. I strangely want to see Spider-Man in Moon Girl & Devil Dinosaur. Whether it be Peter or Miles, or both, I would love to see both of them. Because I want to write something warm with Peter being this warm, protective “Older brother” to Lunella. Because this Peter is wary about LITERAL KIDS being superheroes because he became one at the age of 15...and it was rough for him.

You know, Spider-Man has had a lot of adaptations in different sorts of media. And considering recent stuff like my rant about the Sony spin off films for Spider-Man villains, me loving Insomniac’s take on Spider-Man in general. I feel like me doing a Spider-Man thing isn’t really worth. Despite I’m no director or so, this is basically just an AU. But I want to write this down in case I want to share it with anyone.

My take was the idea of making a Man of Steel/The Batman like approach and wanting to make a version of Spider-Man that really honored the source material but being its own thing. Including taking elements from previous versions. A take on character I’ve loved since I was a kid. And when I look at my idea, it feels like to me this seems to be the Spider-Verse films but without the multiverse aspect. Even something akin to Marvel’s Spider-Man PlayStation game series by Insomniac. But also, make “The Dark Knight” of the Spider-Man franchise which sounds silly.

-

The main focus or the two major characters are Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson. Yet during this “Trilogy” there’s also the inclusion of Miles Morales as he is important later on. But the other two are what I wanted to focus on and talk about.

Peter has been Spider-Man for about 3 to 4 years. He’s not a veteran yet but not fully a rookie. MJ has not seen Peter since the end of high school. During an event where she is saved by Spider-Man. She likely accidentally discovers that her old high school friend, Peter is Spider-Man. It’s been four years since they met, they graduated at 18 and now 22 years old.

But what surprises her the difference in Peter’s personality when he’s not in costume. While as Spider-Man, Peter is more jokey, chattier and more whatever else. What you would expect of Spider-Man. But as Peter, yes, he’s reserved. Yet also, he’s...very pessimistic and just a tired young man. He’s strangely cynical and does suffer from anger issues. But he’s able to control it when he can. As Spider-Man, he’s kind of putting up an act in a way, but he can be himself as well.

In a strange way, Peter is basically a combination of Peter B. Parker and RIPeter from Into The Spider-Verse. There’s even a comment from MJ where she says, “You know, for a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You sure are very pessimistic.” or something akin to that but yeah.

Since he had become Spider-Man, Peter’s life has been a mess. But not in the way you expected. There was a time where he tried to balance his life yet as everything went on, things couldn’t be balanced. His life has been a mess to where he’s evicted from his apartment, MJ offers him a place to stay, and he’s still working at the Daily Bugle. One idea included him dropping out of college, but that seems like too much.

Peter has literally sacrificed his personal life and relationships to focus on being Spider-Man and it showcases the problem when that happens. Including the fact during those four years, in this version. Gwen had broken up with Peter due to whatever he was doing. Especially because Gwen, her father and the rest of their family had moved out of the state. Peter hardly has any friends and keeps to himself most of the time. And there’s also another reason.

The death of Uncle Ben is still present. But there are other certain aspects to this origin. Peter is still reeling from the incident because while he was responsible for not stopping the killer. But Peter was there to witness Ben being shot in the face three times. Including before then possibly, learning his birth parents had purposely abandoned him so May and Ben can raise him. Peter learned this during an argument he had with his uncle. Which was revealed by Ben in anger. And was likely one of the last times Peter had spoken with Ben. Which Peter still strongly regrets that.

Despite the persona he puts on as Spider-Man. He’s still doing Spider-Man out of guilt, not out of anything else. Even though he understands what he’s been doing is a very good thing. But he looks at it in a strange negative light. And he kind of looks at Ben in a “sage” like way. But during this story and him reconnecting with MJ. There are things that Peter discovers about Ben that truly make him question being Spider-Man.

Including the “If you have great power, you have a great responsibility to use it” that Peter had to figure out himself after Ben’s death. This was meant to be in a strange way a reference or so the fact unlike many other versions. The iconic line was only said at the end of “Amazing Fantasy #15″ and my idea was to again, Peter realizing it himself without being told it.

During the story, Peter tries to push away MJ from helping him as Spider-Man in anyway. He’d rather keep the burden on himself and not allowing her in harm's way. It’s likely the guilt over Ben still troubles him and he tries to hide it. But a revelation is revealed to Peter, by a villain or in some other way.

It is revealed that Ben before marrying May or behind her back. Ben had been a criminal. Although not a hardened one, but a man who kept that part of him a secret from his family. A former bank robber who hadn’t kill anyone but had done some illegal things. And that the man who murdered him was one of his old friends who was originally going to rob them first. But upon recognizing Ben, the robber murdered Ben in anger. Or the idea the robber planned to kill Ben as he figured out where he lived.

This revelation destroys Peter’s concept of Spider-Man and should he even continue it. Even the horrible thought process of maybe Uncle Ben deserved to die. The truth eats away at him as he realized Ben wasn’t the “Perfect” father figure that he felt like he failed. But Peter learns later on that before Ben had been killed, there was a note he wanted to share with him.

Ben had written a note that details who he was before he met May and started raising him. When Peter was graduating but was slowly turning getting used to his new powers, Ben had started to worry for Peter. Including seeing how Peter was acting, Ben feared that Peter would’ve became like who he was before he wanted to change. The note contained an apology to Peter and wanting to explain who he really was and how he only wants Peter to make the best decisions he could. And that he shouldn’t push out a support system like May and whoever else because those are people that are willing to help change who you are. But it’s also his choice of who he wants to be.

One of the big themes for this story is “Duality”. Such as with MJ wanting to help Peter but he keeps pushing her out. She tells him (And this was important) that when they were younger, she used to put on a “Party girl” persona to hide what she had been going through. And in some cases, she still does. Mainly this was happening when her father had been abusive to her and their family. And when she and her family tried to report him to the police, MJ’s father left a “Fuck you” note and killed himself to not face the consequences when his family was able to prove what he was doing.

This idea and MJ telling Peter she knows what it’s like to hide under a mask. And again, the theme of “Duality” as Peter realizes how flawed his uncle was. But the note reveals that he truly was a good “Father” and simply was only worried for Peter. And with Peter realizing he doesn’t need to make himself suffer as Spider-Man and needs to allow people in to help him. But also, that his job as Spider-Man doesn’t need to be done out of guilt. He can be Spider-Man because of his choice and to honor what Ben would’ve wanted him to do.

And thus, Peter becoming less cynical and more well, hopeful.

-

Then we got the villains, and this was tricky. Originally or well, the major one seemed to be Mysterio and likely still could be. Who is basically a sociopathic and egotistical man using his talents to make himself look better than Spider-Man and things get worse. In a sick way, possibly an extremely dark mirror if Peter went down the line of still being selfish and having a superiority complex. Slowly becoming even more of a worse person when Quentin Beck at one point straight starts killing people to make Spider-Man look worse.

Another villain to be included Shocker (Who I love like, I love this dude) to be a secondary one. Maybe he still may be included. But Shocker was one of the earliest villains Spider-Man faced in his career in this story. Along with possibly Vulture, the Chameleon, and the Rhino. But one character I was really thinking of using that works so strongly was the Prowler, the Aaron Davis version.

Mainly the idea of Aaron/Prowler is a foil to Spider-Man not just in terms of design, but in other aspects. Despite one angle that like the Spider-Verse films, Aaron actually has a close bond with Miles and is a genuinely cool uncle. Despite his relationship with his brother Jefferson isn’t in the best condition.

There’s this story idea of Peter bonding with Miles and maybe accidentally discovering Peter is Spider-Man as well. But also learning along with Miles that Aaron is the Prowler. Which would shock the both of them and Peter realizes Miles is in the same position he’s in with his own uncle. That Ben was a criminal before he changed. And seeing Miles going through the same thing as he is well, hurts him.

Really, I’d gotta develop this more. But the idea is it looks like Aaron/Prowler is going to die. Yet instead of him dying, Peter literally risks his life to save a man that has been trying to kill him this entire story. All because Peter is not wanting Miles to go through the same thing he did with losing Ben. Which makes Aaron rethink his viewpoint on Spider-Man.

-

There’s a lot to talk about with this. But I want to finish this. But yeah, the idea of Miles also becoming Spider-Man alongside Peter. But with Peter despite being reluctant a bit, he’s grateful that he’s no longer alone.

But there have been thoughts about other characters like Harry Osborn, Black Cat, Flash Thompson, Gwen Stacy, Silver Sable and whoever the Hell else. Such as Eddie Brock/Venom if I want to bring the Symbiotes into this world.

Yet one aspect that I have thought about a lot...do I want to bring the Green Goblin into this story? Should it be Norman or Harry? What’s the point in even doing Green Goblin again when you’ve had many different versions of him that do him justice. When my idea was to make him the most dangerous version he possibly could be. Basically, make him on the level of Heath Ledger’s Joker.

There were even ideas of combing Green Goblin and Hobgoblin into one character and simply call them “The Goblin” but after some thinking. And I think for my sake and other people may like this too. But I feel like the Hobgoblin is everything or so I want in a Spider-Man villain that would push Peter and others into their darkest moments. Because seriously, Hobgoblin is a fucking bastard and I like that. And also, the fact I love his design more than the Green Goblin’s too.

-

I’ll just admit I imagine Kyle McCarley as Peter Parker and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as Mary Jane Watson. Both actors being from Infinity Train. Murray Bartlett from The Last of Us 2023 as Uncle Ben and these are mainly voice roles. I keep imaging Miles and his family as like from the Spider-Verse films. And Hobgoblin, this dude would have Roger L. Jackson from the Scream franchise as his voice.

And on a funny note. I have wondered about setting this in the world of the Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur cartoon. But I feel like to me and the possible hints with how the world in that cartoon is...that wouldn’t work. XD And I would continue on my shit like, “For the love of God, make sure Lunella and others NEVER face any of Spider-Man’s rogues gallery. But maybe Shocker, maybe Rhino. But mostly Shocker because that might be funny.”

[riewritten]

CHAPTER 5. THE UNDERGROUND COMMUNE

EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE — DIRECTORY

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N | hurt/comfort, angst, mystery, childhood friends, fake marriage, modern au, parallel universe, reincarnation, mentions of canon, pining commander erwin smith, trauma, manipulation, referenced child abuse, violence, psychological torture

SUMMARY: Aggressive land grabbing from the royal government ensue from one countryside to the other, all allegedly for the prophecy: a tree, vast source of power that'd bring great abundance and prosperity to mankind, is standing among their lands. As the said prophecy holds the answer to the tragic childhood you have no memories of, the guerilla's commander pulls out something he prepared for years to help. AO3 | FANFICTION

WORDS: 5.5k | Want to get tagged for the succeeding chapters? Sign up here.

TO COMPENSATE FOR MY SUBSTANDARD NARRATION OF ACTION SCENES, please listen to AOT playlist while reading this chapter (please omfg)

They say dreams appear for a reason, mayhaps a message delivered by the deepest of consciousness.

Or maybe, maybe just a gut feeling. A terrible, terrible gut feeling.

When you opened your eyes again, it was the gentle smell of Erwin's sheets. Unaware of what time it is, your eyes averted to where he is — office table meters away, holding a pen, and you don't know how long he's been disregarding the pile of documents to watch you sleep.

"Sorry, I got your bed." You groggily sat and rubbed your eyes. "What time is it?"

"Past midnight. And you've always been getting my bed, for the record."

"It smells good, I’m really sorry," you groaned, guilty that you disturbed his supposed rest. "You can lie down now."

And yet, you can't bring yourself to stand up and walk, and instead, settled at the edge of the bed to hug your knees. You feel horrid and sick in the stomach.

Erwin followed suit but he didn't lie down. Instead, he sat beside you to examine your demeanor, a bit confused. "You look like the one who got the bed taken over and wasn't able to sleep."

“It was a bad sleep.”

Strangely, the dream wasn't in any way horrid. It was about the earlier times —  back when you’re still yet to adjust to what life beyond Mitras could offer. Spending most of your time being a bystander was terrible as everyone already had their circles upon your arrival. It's not that you were a loner; you tried. You tried because only if the people in Mitras did not spoil you with intimacy, you'd be able to endure living a life without companions.

Back then, just when you were about to cry, Petra sat beside you and offered a bag of carrots.

You look up at her, perplexed, as she remained shy. She knew how random it was; how weird for a classmate you hadn’t even conversed with yet to offer you that much.

“I-I was wondering if you’d like some. The harvest in my province soared so well and my family thought it’d be a good idea to share some with my classmates.” She fidgeted, a bit too nervous if you’d accept it or not. “With the price of vegetables hiking up in the capital, I do think it really would help, y-you know…?”

You looked around the room, then. Most of your classmates had the same bag. Some were smiling, some were chuckling at the strange encounter, some were talking about how rare it was to encounter a province girl as they all grew up in the capital, and the rest were talking about the dishes they plan to cook with all those carrots.

Almost all of them find Petra weirdly amusing, but endearing nonetheless. You were no exception. It explains why you tailed her after that encounter, just like how you did to Erwin back then. And oh, she let you — happily so — as she’s having quite a hard time finding her clique too. Both of you came from measly provinces, who would understand the alienation of the capital better than both of you? Petra, despite having the same willingness to be with you the way people in Mitras — especially Erwin — did, had the gentleness you hadn’t experienced yet. Despite the similarity they possess, Erwin doesn’t have the softness she has. Petra doesn’t exude the feeling of authority that makes you quite scared to counter. It was like they were coexisting in a circle of yin and yang. One of them being taken away from you would rattle the balance and ruin your core.

You wonder what was so bad with a dream reiterating that fact.

“Bad sleep,” he mused, “did it involve fires?”

“No, it was a good dream.”

But then finally, the feeling made sense in you.

Your breath hitched and turned to him in alarm, “Something bad is going to happen.”

A line almost everyone dismisses; everyone except Erwin, for some strange reason.

Maybe he knows you always end up right.

He observed your body language first to see if assistance to calm down is needed, but you’re quite too agitated in getting your point across. “Something bad is going to happen! Where is—”

"A grave news came, Commander!" The subordinate banged the door open which quickly plastered him with shame under the assumption that he interrupted a supposedly intimate moment. However, “The people stationed in Stohess for this week are—”

Blood quickly drained in you. “What happened?” 

“The armed forces released a statement about killing a whole unit of rebels in an armed encounter. But the units reported otherwise moments before the crackdown! If there really was an encounter, then—then they’d call on us for backup!” the man cracked in tears. “They were caught alive defenseless and tortured before killed!”

“What did the statement say?”

“There were censored photographs of a dead body, which we recognized from—” and with that, the man finally broke down.

“From whom! Speak properly!” You shouted, the utter panic overruling any semblance of sympathy.

“It was Petra. They—they publicized the cadaver of Petra.”

Your consciousness crumbled, depriving you of hearing anything, not even the Commander’s additional inquiries about the tragedy, not even when your feet moved on their own in barging out of the room. When you came down to the meeting hall, everyone was crying, crying for the most endearingly amusing comrade who gave no one exception with her kindness.

“Show me the photograph released by the military.”

Moblit shook his head and folded the laptop down, “It won’t be a good idea. Besides, it’s censor—”

You cut him off harshly but shoving the laptop open, and there it goes. It was censored, yes, but the hues of orange cannot be mistaken. 

Alongside the blood all over was her twisted neck.

The poor girl was indeed tortured. 

Not only that, her photograph was posted to send a message. Petra was a college student on the surface, after all, and known for her critical stances against the prophecy. They were exposing a college student's body — a body born by the measly farm they aim to conquer — to deliver a message: trying to go against the likes of the Reiss would end you up in the same fate.

“Anna, stop—”

“Don’t call me Anna,” you spat weakly. The fact that it was given by the person who instigated the said prophecy reeked your very core. Moblit was confused, but you followed up with a question, “Where’s the body?”

“As per the statement, they will deliver her remains to the bereaved family in Orvud. It’s not that hard to deduce that they’ll use her as collateral to finally take ownership of that farm.”

“They wouldn’t have the time to chase over a measly farm if we take over one of their greatest assets.”

“What do you mean by that, Commander?”

“They thought displaying Petra’s body in public would be for their benefit as she was a high-profile advocate on the surface.” Erwin pointed out before turning to everyone. “Moblit, have the guerilla’s public information office release a statement of condemnation and urge the sympathizers to join us. Miche, have our legal forces at the university, precisely Petra’s friends, do the same. Our goal is to have everyone join the rebellion. If we manage to gather that much, then we could finally commence The Underground Commune.”

“Commune? Do you mean—”

“Yes, the whole Underground District will be filled with our forces, up to a point where they have to halt the land-taking operations over the country. They can’t afford to lose the Underground, not when lots of nobility eye this place. No matter how abandoned it seems, this place holds the key to the development of Eldia.” He shot you a short look before giving the final command. “The state forces want us to fear them by disrespecting Petra’s remains and we know better than to prove them right. Petra did not deserve to die, none of our late comrades did, and publicizing her murder was their greatest mistake. Carry that as you fight later on.” Miche flashed the map for Erwin to instruct the base plan while you and the others assemble your guns and green cloaks.

The Eldian Guerillas had wings in its cloak — you caressed yours one last time, as from hereon your other half’s wings are engraved on it. It will never be the same again, but unlike Furlan’s, you’ve now accepted that fact — resolutely so.

ERWIN WAS RIGHT. The military police expected retaliation, but they thought the fear would overrule especially among the legal forces.

The sympathizers assembled a mobilization without arms at hand, nothing but placards calling for their justice. The military police let them be; mobilizations are not intimidating for them after all, not when they begin the program with just around twenty people at most. However, when piles of people came until they covered the whole road, the military police called for backups. It was too late, though, because when a citizen chanted;

“Petra’s remains were your greatest mistake!”

Then the other side added, “They were seeds that you planted,”

“Whom shall sprout countless Eldians who’d dedicate their hearts to continue what they started!”

“Dedicate your hearts!”

“Dedicate your hearts!”

Soon after, spikes of metal strings were heard. People with green cloaks came flying in the air and landed on different roofs. The military police regretted their leniency.

The citizens looked up, some of which are in awe, and shouts of cheer loudened.

“Disrespecting Petra’s remains was your greatest mistake!”

“They were seeds that you planted,”

“Whom shall sprout countless Eldians who’d dedicate their hearts to continue what they started!”

“Dedicate your hearts! Dedicate your hearts!”

A squad leader from the MP shouted in both anger and surprise as this is the first time guerillas appeared in the capital — this is the first time they’ll see the face of ruthless Commander that wreaked havoc in Orvud. “Our comrades were subdued by the 47th Interior Unit and their remains are being prepared for release. We will not back off with empty hands, Petra will be brought home by us! Soldiers, advance!”

“Finally unleashing your true colors now, huh? Hundreds of citizens will die if you pushed through this, you damned in the head Commander! So much for fighting for their so-called emancipation!”

But then, not long after that remark, citizens brought out something from their sleeves. The Military Police panicked and immediately readied to fire upon realizing that everyone was armed.

If one were to look from afar, it could be deemed how gun turns people into killing machines whose every shot diminishes humanity, with every hit shredding any semblance of emotion — dreams of going home and letting someone go home, paying the debt to his country and seeking the country to pay its debt, among many other reasons.

Instead of fear, a couple of citizens — most from the frontlines — sneered at the guns pointed at them. “The position of your guns says a lot about you, state lapdogs!” Isabel, the one at the center, shouted. She then dropped a command, “Guns up the sky!” The citizens followed suit and thus she added, “Fire!”

The military police finally realized what was up — the citizens were not, in any way, holding real guns. It was smoke grenades to deprive them of vision, to give the flying guerillas their needed leverage. Isabel’s command for citizens to chant deprived them of the ability to hear the metal strings and so within a minute, three units of military police were put down.

If one were to look from afar, it could be deemed how the death of an endearing comrade turns people into a bloody rage, how the lack of choice but to collectively retaliate diminishes the upper hand of those in power.

Eventually, the citizens did not chant just Petra’s name. They chanted for Gunther Schultz, for Eld Jinn, for Oluo Bozado, for Petra’s father, and among all the mentioned, your heart screamed at them screaming justice for Furlan Church.

“Furlan was confirmed to be killed due to the prophecy,” Erwin muttered to himself as both of you fled. “So my gamble to take you with me upon his death was the right call...”

“I don’t want to be called Anna anymore.”

“But that would keep your identity from the surface safe. Are you sure?”

“I know that’s what you’re trying to erase in this mission, Commander. To blur the distinction between civilians and guerillas would leverage our forces. To see the citizens comply with the plan right now shows how successful you are in it.”

“I’m not the one in success; the citizens brought it upon themselves. No one claims it but them. That’s the same reason why we must avoid bloodshed. None of our attacks must hurt the people below, and if there is someone to kill, it must be those who tormented Petra’s squad. Call for the—” Erwin was cut off when a series of gunshots were heard, and citizens’ chants were replaced by screams.

“They’re shooting the citizens!” Miche exclaimed. “They’re using them as pawns to distract us from attacking them!”

Erwin deduced the situation before speaking, “With a place this smokey, the military can easily claim we’re the ones behind the shooting,” Despite the horrifying realization, Erwin let out a grim smile — a deranged one, perhaps, one seething in anger. Then he dropped a command for everyone to hear. “Soldiers, kill every military police with guns at sight!”

“But Commander!” You shouted with heart drumming so loud at the thought of Isabel dying. “The citizens need help in evacuating!”

“No! We don’t have enough forces as it is. Continue charging at the enemy!”

“Erwin!”

“The MPs in the area are not too much right now and their desperation to shoot the unarmed is brought by their awareness that once the smoke subsides, all their units would be eliminated! They want to distract us! If we decrease our forces now and fail to eliminate them before the smoke's gone, then all of the people here would be doomed! Don’t go by their trap!”

“Commander, are you saying we let the citizens be the pawn?” Nanaba asked.

“No, the citizens here knew this could happen, and so their formation is arranged from those who are most willing to die to those who want to evacuate once the situation gets dire. Those who are to evacuate have trucks waiting for them at the back, all of which came from different farms. Now as we speak, people on the frontlines are helping the rest escape before bullet reaches them — they are all seizing their time left before the bullet reaches them.”

Isabel is willing to die.

Isabel very much knew she could die, and yet…

You pointed your gun below the silhouette of a soldier. Just when you were about to pull the trigger, something daunted you and your hands shook.

You're about to kill a military man — a being who most likely has a family waiting for him. But when he unhesitantly pulled his own trigger at the citizens, your shaking were motivated from anger.

"H-hah—"

Erwin called your name, "You don't have to kill them if you don't want to."

Isabel is willing to die.

"Hah, huh—" your breath ragged, shaking intensified, and the hah's soon became a scream as the statement repeated inside your mind: every bullet he shoots raises Isabel's chance of death. Isabel is willing to die. Isabel very much knew she could die. Isabel, Isabel, Isabel, Isabel.

The fury awakened something in you, it was the voice you fear the most:

FLOWER HANGING AT THE EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE, WITH AN UNDESERVING FATE SUBJECTED BY THE WORLD,

YOU HAVE TO UNLEASH THE LACK OF MERCY INSIDE YOU, TOO. THAT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU'D BE ABLE TO LIVE.

YOU HAVE TO UNLEASH THE LACK OF MERCY INSIDE YOU, TOO.

UNLEASH IT.

UNLEASH IT.

But now you listened as it talked, and for the first time in your life, you were not scared to do so.

You propelled a scream then pulled the trigger just before he could. It pierced his head. You pulled it again to ensure his death, crying. You flashed your gear towards another position to do more, to kill more.

You shouted alongside the bangs of your gun, all in tormenting urgency to save your friend.

Not long after, the shooting ended; the flares subsided. It's done, and the daunting casualties were flashed to everyone.

.Bloodshed. It was utter bloodshed.

"Clear! The next MP units are running 5 kilometers away from here!" A squad leader three roofs away from you reported from her telescope.

"Twenty casualties from the citizens! Ten injured, ten dead! Area all clear, the trucks are on the way to the Underground!" A squad leader down below had reported from the transceiver. 

"State of the military forces below, report," Miche said.

"All clear. None injured, all dead."

The Commander pressed the transceiver, "The Stohess operation is successful. All except the Command Unit and Squad Miche, discharge!"

"Yes, Sir!" Everyone said in unison.

The Squad Miche is just behind so no one uses the transceiver anymore. "The new squad unit is on standby at Stohess funeral home. The truck to bring them home is on alert, too."

"We would be able to bring them home," Erwin concurred. 

"Petra will be brought home."

Upon reaching the place, it came to you that the new squad unit in question is led by someone close to your heart.

"Levi!" With a blurry mind, you quickly ran towards him. Levi just finished tying two MP soldiers up; he turned in surprise upon hearing your voice.

He's alive. Levi's alive.

You jumped at him with a hug.

Levi's not the type to return that under normal circumstances. So now, he did it so tightly with a weak sigh of relief.

"Isabel is in the frontline," you wept, muffled in his cravat. "Why did you let her? What the hell is she thinking?"

"I made sure she was alive before flying here." He withdrew from the hug, and instead leveled his face the same as yours, "And she has the same question: why didn't she tell us she was Anna? Why didn't she tell us she joined the rebels?" And to end, he gave a hard flick on your forehead, "What the hell are you thinking?"

You averted your eyes away in guilt, but Levi knew better; he forced you to look at him while glaring.

"I'm sorry."

He called your name tiredly this time, contrary to the stern tone prior. "I'm not asking for apologies."

"I'm sorry Furlan died because of me. Whatever the confrontation, I was part of the reason why he died, because I used to be Anna, and they were finding me for the prophecy."

"No," he quickly interrupted. "It’s not your—"

"Because you're not her, I told you. You're the name you go by right now." Erwin cut in. "Whatever they planned on that dead child was out of your control, therefore not your fault. Also, the caught soldiers are saying something right now. Go back to the present."

"The rats keep on saying that Petra betrayed the movement. They took it back after I rearranged their faces." Levi deadpanned.

You walked to them as Miche pointed a gun at their heads, "They were sticking their noses too much! They were trying to seize information even lowly soldiers don't have the privilege of knowing!"

"Then Levi clasped on his collar, a pin of Interior Military Police clasped on it. "Then tell us. You're not a lowly soldier yourself. Tell us what you know."

"I'll talk, I'll talk!" In utter fear of what Levi could further ruin in his shape, he shakily responded, "The prophecy of Eldia's prosperity is never a bluff—"

Levi cut them off with a punch, "Seems like you still want more, huh? Might as well tell me how much of your teeth you want to lose."

"Levi, let him speak."

"I'm not here to mess around some fucking prophecy, Erwin. I did not involve myself, let alone Isabel, in this type of shit."

"But I'm telling the truth! Saying this to you will get my head opened by Commander Kenny!"

Levi stopped in his tracks upon hearing the name of his uncle. 

Sensing it, the soldier continued, "There was a world that used to be ruled by the royal family and that world was filled with giant monsters. Those monsters came from a tree, a tree blessed to the royal family. The giant monsters were used to kill every being that's not from the Eldian race—"

"You're speaking shit that's already been said by the storybooks," Levi hissed. "Don't waste our time."

"If the tree was from another world, what relevance does it have to today's prophecy? Are you telling me the tree is nothing but a conspiracy?"

"No, that's why let me finish!" The soldier countered. "Due to the sins Eldians incurred from that world, we weren't supposed to exist anymore. But someone saved us, someone had our existence persist, and that's why we're here! The goal of the prophecy is to relieve the savior and utilize their power for the prosperity of the entire humankind in this world!"

"And how do you know if it's true?"

"The royal family has visions of it."

"And you believed them?"

"Nations do! Marley believes them, Hizuru believes them, everyone does! How can a measly soldier like me decide what to believe with what's not when they do?"

Levi then grabbed a paper from his pocket and shoved it, "Then what does the saying in Furlan's cadaver mean? Alas, your men had done a fruitful job. The first horseman of the apocalypse has come in the form of a devil from the tree. How did Furlan become a signifier of war?" This time, Levi's face had changed. It was desperate, frustrated, seething in pain. "Just why—why, out of all people, why did someone like him get caught up in this mess?"

The soldier's face changed. It was a fear much greater than Levi. His face changed; even at the expanse of his teeth nor his face, he would not speak. He shuddered, tears flowed down without a word, and his eyes were so wide you'd think they could fall out.

"You won't answer, huh?"

Everyone was caught off guard when the soldier started banging his head at the wall behind him until it cracked. Even when blood poured down he didn't stop.

Miche grabbed him away before the final blow, even Levi was too shocked to speak. It proved that he wasn't lying. There was something in the prophecy and the royal family would rather sacrifice the whole populace instead of revealing it."

"Our job here is done. Apply first aid on that soldier and bring him in the truck."

"First aid?" Levi grimaced at Erwin, "You're letting him live?"

He looked at the now unconscious police before adding, "He was a citizen before a soldier and the guerillas are not terrorists. We're tending to his wounds and taking him in as a prisoner of war. Besides, with all the information he's leaked, he really has no other fate but an open head." As the other soldiers followed, Erwin looked at you, "The remains are already acquired and resting at the truck. We'll be bringing Petra home. Don't make her wait too long."

“Did you see this coming?”

“See what? The death of our comrades?”

“No. You know that Petra’s death would cause an uproar. It was all too fast and yet you were able to handle everything. And we succeeded. Did you see that coming?”

As the truck moved, a look of lament resonated on Erwin's face. He called your name weakly, "I became the Commander for a reason. This might be the worst encounter we had so far but certainly not a new thing within our ranks."

"Did Petra…" you gulped, "Did Petra really lead a tormenting life?"

"No, she said giving you the carrots was one of the happiest choices she made in her life." Levi mindlessly answered, not even turning at you. "After all, it was you who brought her to us."

"Petra didn't stop bugging me with her gratitude since I brought you here, too.”

And thus as if it was your long-awaited one, you wept hard. You didn't have the time to do so when you first got the news. You didn't have the time to do so when people were chanting for her justice. You couldn't even go to the other truck to look at it, even upon your arrival at the Underground district. 

When you came across the injured Isabel, your cries went harder. She cried with you alongside curses for the things you didn't say, but it didn't feel as heavy as earlier anymore. You might never be the same again but there are still people left.

There are still people left.

The population in the underground had tripled. Plenty of recalibration must be done and lots of newly built units to be trained. Due to Levi's uncanny prowess during the encounter and the fact that he was the one to put down half of the soldiers in Stohess, it was the right choice to make him a squad leader. In exchange, he bargained for Isabel as his second-in-command (for no apparent reason; it's just to ensure her welfare while recovering from the bullet wound).

"When the MPs started shooting at us without any reluctance, we realized there really was nothing to be done with our lands if we relied on them." A new kid named Armin from Levi's squad said.

"Besides, Petra was kind to us. It's just not fair." Eren concurred. He was reportedly a new advocate from the freshman level who, despite months of experience, had already been leading his entire college.

"Marco was a kind man. He didn't deserve to die the way he did earlier," another one chipped in.

"The bloody confrontation proved our narrowest target from here on — the Police Commander Kenny Ackerman, who was reported to be one of the founding instigators of the prophecy alongside Anna's father—" you grimaced at the mention of your former name, "and the royal family. As the line between civilians and rebels blurred, the policy of gaining aliases will not be needed anymore. Unless someone disagrees…?" Everyone shook their heads, hence Miche continued. "After the recalibration, units will be distributed to different provinces to further enlarge our bases. Does anyone have any questions before we adjourn the debriefing?"

A small blonde girl with long bangs hanging to her nose raised her hand, "H-how about the prophecy of the Reiss? Is it true?"

The people in the Command Unit — with Levi and Isabel included — exchanged glances. 

"We're not to rely on something based on hearsay. Unless we get concrete proof, the movement will deem it as conspiracy and bluff." Erwin answered.

"B-but—"

"If you don't have any questions concerning the new delegation of tasks, then let's adjourn the meeting for everyone to recuperate."

Without further ado, everyone rushed away from the hall tiredly. The small blonde girl followed suit, defeated. Just before you could ponder what she had to say, Erwin called you over to talk.

"Isabel reported something you should've said to me months ago, way before your training." He started, and thus you looked away in guilt. “They were able to find Anna not by the statement released by the guerillas but through Furlan himself." 

“That’s exactly why we have to investigate. This is not a black-and-white matter. If Furlan was with them, fully aware of that mission, how come he’s the only one who got killed?”

"Then what if it turned out not that complicated? You know better than spurring something without any basis.”

“But what if it isn’t baseless?” you took out the piece of paper you had gotten from Levi. “This is written in Furlan’s cadaver. No one understood it. No country goes by that language. But I did, Erwin. I did.”

There, Erwin’s grim was replaced with perplexity. “How?”

“This is how the voices inside me speak.”

What do you want to imply?”

“That I might be the devil they’re finding for. That Furlan died because of me. It spoke about the devil born by that tree! We saw that tree before, hadn’t we? Back in Mitras, what have you seen in that tree?"

"You remembered…?"

"Have you seen that I’m a monster, too? Is that why you were so horrified when we came across it back in childhood?”

“You are not a monster,” he scowled as if that was the main concern, “and no, I only saw what that tree could offer.”

“The conquest horseman inside me, what if it just altered my memory of killing Furlan as well? What if, all this time—”

“Stop.” This time, Erwin is no longer interested in unfolding further possibilities. You’re about to lose yourself again. “You must be aware that if the horseman entails conquest, the devil who killed Furlan might’ve gotten on you too and taken over your mind. If things would go like this then we must assume the royal family isn’t our only enemy. Let's come up with a recalibration concerning this possibility."

“W-what are we supposed to do?"

“We have to seek those who saw the tree as well. Those who saw it aside from us.”

prev | next

[myocsfanfictions]

The Wolf, the Stag and the Snake (Book 2)

ASOIAF Fanfiction

After the new King of the Seven Kingdoms had killed Lord Stark many things had happened. Life is no longer how it used to be, with the War of the Five Kings beginning, follow Antea Stark, Cassandra Baratheon and Cyel Sand trying to survive in a world that is becoming everyday more dark and dangerous.

MASTERLIST

《 Previous - Next 》

Chapter 2

ANTEA

Her nights had become rather restless. After learning about her Lord father’s execution, Antea Stark had trouble falling asleep. The anger she felt was so great that it made her tremble. The sorrow that she felt was so painful that every time she had the chance to be alone, she’d cry and scream. She had noticed many lords looked at her as if she was crazy.

She is a woman. She is too soft. They liked to say.

But they had no idea what it felt like to be her. Antea had no way to release that fire of anger that had been lit up inside her. She hated the Lannisters, yet she could only hate them. She had no way of getting close to those men. She could not take a sword and twist it in the belly of Joffrey Baratheon. She couldn’t. But she could hate them. I hate that cowardly boy who had no shame in killing her Father with false accusations. She could only hate them. And that was how she spent the nights when she could not sleep. She prayed to all the gods she knew so that something terrible would happen to every living Lannister and that they could lose everything they hold dear and die in despair.

“I feel your anger, sister. But you need to gain back your senses,” Robb had said one night, visiting the chamber that had been given to her. Their journey had brought them all to Riverrun, the castle where her mother had lived her youth, where both Robb and Antea had come into the world fifteen years before.

Antea had turned to him with crossed arms. Shadow was now always with her, sitting at her feet to not let anyone get close. “I’ve got my senses, brother,” she spoke, “I’ve never had my mind more clear.”

“Antea, people talk,” Antea scoffed.

“Let them!” She exclaimed, “My Father had been killed. I’m never going to see him again,” Robb took a breath, looking down, “They have destroyed us, Robb,” she said sadly, “They’ve destroyed us since they walked through the gates of Winterfell.”

Her twin brother, now the King of the North, walked to her, taking her hands. “I swear to you, Antea. I’ll bring justice. I’ll avenge Father.”

Antea felt the tears in her eyes as she observed her brother. Her hands moved, taking his face between her hands so that their forehead could touch each other, “We’ve lost father, Sansa is in the Lannister’s hands, only the gods know what was of Arya, and we almost lost Bran, and you are fighting a war. We are scattered,” she let out a sob, “I’m so angry.”

“My sweet sister,” Robb said, taking her hands to have her look at him, “We’ll be back at Winterfell soon enough, but I need you to keep yourself grounded. I'm king now, the lords holds expectations.”

Antea got free from her brother's hold, “Expectation...”

“My King,” the voice of the guard outside her tent made the two turn towards the entrance, “Theon Greyjoy, my King.”

Antea took a breath, brushing away her tears.

Her brother spoke, “Let him through.”

Shadow nudged Antea’s leg, making the girl look down so that their eyes could meet. Shadow understood her. Like always.

The sound of Theon’s steps made her look at the boy. He was wearing his jerkin. The golden kraken was embroidered on his chest. His eyes traveled between Robb and Antea, indulging on her face longer. Action that made her look away. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

“Lord Edmure is looking for you,” Theon said to Robb. Antea heard her brother take a deep breath before turning to his sister.

“Try to stay calm,” he said, holding her hand, “Sleep. Rest. I’ll see you in the morrow. Agreed?” He asked with a firm tone when she didn’t look at him. “Antea.”

Antea bit her lips, “Yes, my king.” Robb had not appreciated her answer, but he had no time to stay and fight with her. He took a frustrated breath before leaving the tent.

“Am I sensing a tense feeling in here?” Theon said, still not leaving. That was not new to Antea. Lately, he had been observing her closely. She had seen him looking at her at every opportunity that he had. But not only. Since the death of her father, Theon had been by her side more often than not.

“You don’t have to tell me how to behave,” she told him with a nervous tone, pacing back and forth, “The King had already spoken his mind.”

“I’m not here to tell you how to behave,” Theon said with a frown, surprising her when his lips turned up into a smirk, “My lady wouldn't listen anyway."

When they got the chance to be alone, Theon did not use her new title. Being called princess was still a foreign sound to her ears. A sound full of sorrow. If her father were still alive, she'd still be a lady and her brother heir to Winterfell, not the King in the North.

“Yet, it pains me to see you like this,” that made her scoff in frustration.

“Is it a sight so unbearable? To watch a daughter who lost her father?” She asked, clenching her fingers into a fist as she turned her back to the young man, “I’ve lost so much more than just my lord. Yet you all can’t stand it. Why do my feelings bother you so much? Why is feeling considered a weakness by men?”

She knew they all said that. Antea had listened with her own ears. The lord of the North observed her as if she was a twig on the verge of breaking. They liked to underestimate her because she was a woman. But that had nothing to do with women or weakness.

Antea had always been known to be different from her siblings in matters of feelings and expressing them. She had a hard time controlling her emotions, but she managed most of the time. Yet, this was a new kind of feeling. Much greater than she had ever felt. And she felt as if it was impossible to keep it in.

“You’ve mistaken my words,” Theon spoke, “I consider you anything but weak,” Antea dared not to say anything, letting him continue, “I’ve watched you for ten years, and I figured you’ve got a temper, and your stubbornness can be unbearable,” he let out a little nostalgic laugh, as she could hear him moving closer, “But I also know that you are protective and generous and your smile is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever lay my eyes upon," when he gently touched her arm, Antea could not help but let him move her so that their eyes could meet. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, feeling him so close. "It pains me to see you filled with so much sorrow, knowing there's little I can do."

A tear rolled down her, wetting her cheek. Her breath got stuck in her throat when she felt his hand coming to touch her face. Drying her tear with his thumb.

"Theon..." she whispered as her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips. He was so close to her.

"Theon loves you, Antea," she remembered her sweet sister Sansa's voice. Those words made her blush as she looked over to Septa Mordane to be sure she hadn't heard. "Cyel, tell her it's the truth," Sansa said, almost begging the girl to keep with her needlework. But Antea didn't miss her smile.

"Love is a big word, sweet sister," Antea had whispered. But Sansa had looked at her as if she was really silly.

"He always looks at you," she had explained, "And he smiles."

Antea rolled her eyes, "He always smiles," she had answered. But Sansa had shook her head elegantly, like always.

"It's a different kind of smile."

Antea was close to thirteen when Sansa shared her thoughts. And Antea had blushed deeply. Theon was older than her and handsome and charming. She remembered that she hadn't been able to talk to him for the entire day after what Sansa had told her. Suddenly, feeling shy in his presence.

Maybe it's true, she had wandered. Maybe he truly has feelings for me.

She had kept thinking when they had danced together, not so long after.

But that good feeling soon had been replaced by realization when she had heard Theon speak with her twin brother about a girl he had bedded.

Antea had never realized that Theon could indulge in such behavior, but then she heard servant talk, and she had seen girls blush at his passage. That had cut deeper than she thought.

So, she kept on with her life, thinking of Theon as a dear friend. Not sharing her thoughts with anyone, not even Cyel. Theon liked women, but he did not have any interest in her.

But now, what was happening was something that she had not expected to happen. She felt confused, surely due to all those sleepless nights, but at the same time, his touch was so comforting. The same way it had comforted her when she had known about her father's death.

"My lady," he whispered, moving closer. His hand remained against her cheek. Antea moved her fingers to rest on his wrist. But not to move him away, if anything, to keep him close to her. Her eyes were full of tears.

"I'm so tired, Theon," Antea admitted after a moment of silence, "I feel nothing but pain."

His hold on her tightened, "I'd do anything to ease your heart, my lady." Antea let out a little sob.

"Why?" She asked before he could make sure she'd look into his eyes.

"Don't you know?" He asked, making her blush as he leaned forward, slowly pushing his lips against hers.

That was a strange feeling, the one Antea felt when their lips touched. She had never been kissed before, but with ease, she found herself kissing Theon's back. She had been hesitant at the beginning, not knowing exactly what to do. But the more she followed his movement, the more she found herself comfortable feeling his touch. Her hands traveled from his arms to his chest, gripping the cloth of his vest, as she was afraid he would walk away. But he didn't. Theon kept kissing her, holding her close when his hands found her hips. His touch and his lips brought her so much warmth, a feeling that she had almost forgotten those days. Feeling all those judging faces of the other lords. Of her king. But there in Theon's arms, she felt much more safe. Understood.

Soon, her fingers found his hair, pulling him closer. Allowing him to explore her mouth as it pleased him. And she savored every moment, feeling at ease in his arms.

"Antea," he whispered against her lips, "You're crying, my lady," but she took his face in her hands, stopping him from moving away. "Please, Theon." She whispered. He kissed her tears before his lips found hers again.

Antea closed her eyes, getting lost in that pleasurable feeling that was taking over her. She liked how his hand touched her hip, bringing her closer to his chest. She did the same, feeling the need to have him close.

"Princess Antea," the guard outside her chamber spoke, interrupting them. "The lady Catelyn is here for you."

Dread took over Antea as she took a step back from Theon, who looked at the door.

"Yes," Antea had been quick to answer, still short of breath.

"Meet me in the morrow," Theon was quick to whisper.

"What?" She whispered, eyeing the door.

"Meet me in the morrow," he repeated, "In the gardens." Antea found herself nodding her head. Her gesture made him smile.

Theon was quick to turn when the door opened to let Antea's mother enter her chamber. And only by the look on her face, she could see that the Lady Stark was not pleased by what she was looking at.

"My lady," Theon was quick to bow to her mother. Who looked at him rather coldly. "I'll take my leave, now," then he turned to Antea, bowing to her, "My princess," she didn't answer, but she had to do everything that she could not to let her cheek get red when she saw the smirk on his face when he looked at her.

Antea observed him walk away, still feeling his lips against her own. But her memory of the kiss the two had just shared had to be put aside. She had to face her mother.

"Why was Theon here?" The woman asked, with a tone that got Antea a shiver on her back.

"Robb was here as well," Antea was quick to answer, "But then he had to meet with Uncle Edmure." But her answer didn't ease her mother's gaze.

"But why was Theon here?" She asked.

Antea took a breath, sitting on her bed, immediately followed by Shadow, who sat at her feet.

"I was crying, Mother," she answered, "Theon was... comforting me."

Her mother studied her expression. And Antea prayed to all the gods that she wasn't showing any sign of flushing on her face.

"It is not appropriate for him to be in your chambers alone," her mother said.

Antea caressed Shadow's head, "Nothing happened," she lied, "How's grandfather?" She asked, trying to move away from the subject of Theon.

"Not well at all, I'm afraid," her mother's eyes were different from what had happened to Antea's father. She was hiding it well, but Antea fell her close. Sharing the same sadness. And the condition of Lord Hoster Tully was perceived even heavier now.

"As I've noticed your sorrow," her mother spoke, coming to sit next to her daughter, "I know you are suffering," Antea didn't answer, "But it's time for you to get back your strength. Your brother needs you," her mother said touching her hair.

"You know I would do anything for our family," Antea answered with honesty, "But I've felt so angry since my father..."

"I know, child," her mother said, "But since this war is far from over, we need to make the lords see that our house still stands."

"I do not want people to see me as weak, Mother," she said.

"They won't," her mother answered.

Theon doesn't, Antea thought. Feeling again the pressure of the boy's lips on hers. And that made her heart race.

"I've sent a raven to Winterfell," his mother said, getting Antea's attention back. She often wondered about her little brothers and how Rickon was growing up. How Bran was feeling. "Bran is to be wed. Not now, of course, but soon the ravens with words of his engagement will fly in the Seven Kingdoms."

"With Cyel?" Antea asked with wide eyes.

Her mother nodded her head, "It's time for all of us to do our part."

The night had passed with Antea tossing and turning. The expectation on herself, the words of her mother, Theon’s lips. Everything was spinning in her head. There was so much that she felt. The sorrow for her family, the anger towards those judging lords, the weight of reality, knowing that she indeed had to do what was expected of her, and guilt. Guilt because if she thought about Theon’s touch, she had finally felt a moment of peace. But was it fair to her father’s memory?

In the morrow, Antea had joined her brother to break their fast. It had been a quiet meal, and both still felt very sensitive about their argument from the night before. But Antea had another reason to feel queer with her brother. She had never held secrets with him, yet she did not want him to know what had happened between her and Theon.

“They are forging my crown,” Robb said as he ate. “They want to make it look like the crown of the Kings in the North.”

Antea took a sip of milk, “Does it make you eager?” Robb scoffed.

“You’re angry at me for some reason?” Antea lowered her eyes. It was strange. She knew he was her brother, she was looking at her beloved twin. And yet, his new title was heavy on everyone. She had been one of those agreeing with him. But she had not thought about the consequences. Her brother was now more exposed to risk than ever.

“I do not wish to lose you, Robb,” she admitted without rage in her voice, “Loosing father had been a pain so great that I fear I’d lose myself if something like that would happen again,” she felt Shadow resting her snout on her legs, and Antea was quick to caress her head.

Every time Antea felt something very strongly, it was like her direwolf would feel it as well and share it with her. She had been so attached to her pup that sometimes she dreamt of being her, running and hunting with Grey Wind.

In moments of sorrow, Shadow felt the only one who could understand her truly.

“I promise, it’s not going to happen,” Robb said, taking back her attention. “I’m in talks with the lords to look for another solution. One that will not require battlefields and fights.”

Antea’s eyes widened, “Truly?”

Her brother smiled. It was so strange to see his face covered with a beard. He seemed so much older. “I still need time, but I’ll try this solution.”

The girl nodded, feeling relieved that her brother didn’t have to fight anymore. Or Theon.

She remembered how she had feared during the battle to take back Riverrun from the Lannisters, how she had waited for her brother to return and how she felt relieved when she saw him ride back with words of victory, how she had looked at Theon, feeling tears when she saw his usual smirk on his face. All of that was coming to an end. And of that, she was glad. But there was a thought that lingered in the back of her mind.

“What of the Kingslayer, though?” She asked. They couldn’t let him go, even with peace.

“I do not intend to free him,” Robb answered. Antea had no permission to talk to the prisoner. Her brother had forbidden her to. Robb knew how much she hated him for what he had done to Bran. But he knew well how much she hated the Lannisters and how Shadiw was quick to attack every time Antea got angry. Her pup could be very quiet and calm, as she could attack a man without a second thought. That happened when Antea had enough of those lords observing her. She still remembered Lord Bolton’s face as the soldier held his arm.

After she had broken her fast, her brother, the King, was required by the lords. And Antea could not go. But she had somewhere to be.

She walked through the corridors of Riverrun. She had been born in that castle, but she had no memory of it. She had been nothing but a child attached to breast when it had been possible for her to go home. Winterfell.

Riverrun was different from her castle. And its defenses were impressive, by what she came to know. They could easily open the gates to transform the castle into an island surrounded by water on all sides. She knew it would have been a sight. But a sight she did not wish to see.

Antea made her way to the gardens. Her hands were sweating, and her heart was racing at the thought of seeing Theon after what happened. She had no idea what to expect.

When she stepped outside, she saw Theon standing on a side, bowing his head when Lord Rickard Karstark passed. Antea did not know what to do.

What should I say? The girl asked herself. But when Richard Karstark noticed her presence, he bowed, “Good morrow, Princess Antea,” she felt her cheeks burn when she saw Theon turning in her direction.

“Good morrow, my lord,” Antea answered politely.

“Your beauty is a welcoming sight, my princess,” the man said. There was a hint of sorrow in his voice. Antea knew why and could understand. He was still mourning his sons, lost during the Battle of the Whispering Woods. His sons had saved Robb’s life. An act she would never forget.

“The King will be pleased by your presence, my lord,” she said with courtesy. The man bowed one last time before entering the castle. When the heavy door closed at her back, Antea started to feel nervous again as her eyes met Theon’s.

“I’m glad you’re here, my lady,” he said, stepping closer. Antea felt the shyness grow inside of her. Remembering the kiss they’ve shared, “For a moment, I thought you would not be coming.”

The smile never left his face as he spoke to her. “I wanted to meet you,” she said, lowering her gaze for a moment, “I think we need to talk about what happened.”

Theon took a breath before nodding his head. Then he offered his arm to her to take. “Shall we take a walk?”

It would have been more fitting. She didn’t want her mother to know what had happened. So Antea accepted his arm, letting him guide her through the gardens. Shadow had already disappeared. But she was there. Antea could feel her eyes on her.

“What did you want to talk about?” Asked Theon, making her glare at him.

“You know,” she answered, trying to speak with a hushed voice. That seemed to amuse him.

“You are too shy to call it by its name?” He said, righting his grip on her arm when he felt her try to pull back.

“I will not be mocked, Theon,” she argued as the boy tilted his head to the side.

“That’s not my intent, my lady,” he said, the smile never leaving his face, as he leaned forward, “It’s just, you’re so lovely, I might want to kiss you again.”

“Theon…” she whispered, giving a quick look at their surroundings to be sure no one was around.

“You don’t want me to?” He asked, not moving away.

I want you to, she thought. Her eyes moved to his lips so close to hers. She would have liked to feel them pressed on hers again.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked instead. Theon lowered his gaze for a moment.

“Because I’ve wanted to for quite some time,” he answered. For quite some time? What did he mean? For how long? But before she could ask anything else, he kept walking once again. “But I wanted for you to try something this day.” Theon leads her through the gardens, further from the castle. Until she saw a bow resting on the ground next to a target to practice. Something like twenty arrows were stuck on the ground.

“Archery?” She asked, turning to the young man next to her, who showed his smile.

“I wanted to take your mind away from sad thoughts,” he answered, “I meant it when I said my heart ache not to see your smile again.”

Antea looked at him, moved by everything he was doing for her. But a single question came to her mind, “Why?”

Theon smiled, taking her face gently between his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, “Don’t you know?” He asked her before leaning forward and pressing his lips on hers once again. And Antea found herself closing her eyes, savoring that kiss that filled her with all those same sweet feelings of the night before.

*************

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[biigiiiii]

Hey.

I think I want to come back on here, but I’m struggling with the thought of indulging in the privilege of using escapism that I have. My white western guilt is keeping me off tumblr and I’m kinda stuck in this limbo; where the world seems bleak and any joy I find is tainted now.

I also find guilt in enjoying my favourite comfort show that I based this blog around (Stranger Things, more specifically Byler), and it is also my current hyperfixation/spin. Usually these naturally fade out over time, but they both came to an abrupt end with Noah’s and Bret’s actions last week so I’m feeling kinda lost, and I have had people berating me for spiralling which has caused multiple meltdowns.

I’m not doing good, but I feel so bad saying that because how can I complain when I have food Water electricity and a roof over my head?

But my life is completely changed in the last few weeks and I’m struggling to adjust to this new reality without my crutches, with less people to talk to, living alone… I’m just existing day by day, and with my birthday recently and seeing the stranger things play, and other family members birthdays and Christmas/new year coming up I’m feeling so much expectation to be happy, or not to be a burden.

Idk I just wanted to write that down, idk what to do. I just sit watching the news feeling like the world is closing in on me each day, and I’m alone through it all.

I’ve felt like ending it on one occasion, and that kinda scares me. I’ve never actually legitimately considered what it would be like to do that, and even just to slightly entertain the idea is terrifying.

I’ve been reading fanfiction still, which helps me feel like I’m turning the volume down and it fades in to the background, but when I come back to reality it feels like being hit by a cold wave.

I have no appetite, any food just makes me feel nauseous, and I’m losing any interest in the things that I like. Sure I had a great time in London last week watching the play, but I felt this anger the whole time knowing Matt Ross and Shawn were there, and then I felt so upset that something I had looked forward to for so long was a little bit tainted. Didn’t help that afterwards people seemed to hate it, and it just feels like there’s so much negativity in the fandom rn. Also seeing the video of David talking about byler being unlikely just was part of the tipping point for me. Why does any of this even matter when people are dying, why do my feelings even matter.

Doesn’t help that I’m sick rn but idk. I’ve been inside for the past few days and only gone out when I have to, not really talked to anyone… if anyone can help, or just talk to me, I’d appreciate that ❤️

[what-gs-watching]

This week on...

Ok gang. Here we go, I'm gonna start this thing in earnest.

I’m G. I'm a grown ass woman. With a house, and a dog and a husband, and a (difficult) job.

But I fucking love content. TV shows, movies, a good spotify playlist. Maybe my emotions are broken, but for the past few years, content has been the best way to feel something other than the everyday minutiae. And maybe we can thank COVID for a lot of that.

Because yo, once we went on lockdown, I just started binging. Basically, everything. While my husband was off doing his own thing (tiktok, amiright) I was watching literally EVERYTHING. And I wanted to talk about it.

So I started doing a thing. I'd rush into whatever room my husband was in and start talking at him about what I was streaming at the time. Spewing out these ridiculously terrible synopses of episodes with intricate plots, trying to boil it down so he could follow whatever it was I was ranting about because I had to express why the show was gnawing at me or making me feel shit. And most of the time he'd stare at me blankly and then chuckle.

Eventually I decided to start my rant by announcing "THIS WEEK, ON WHAT G'S WATCHING - " and bless his soul, he'd mostly tolerate my diatribes. (Around this time I was watching Fringe, and he'd know I was coming because he'd hear me scream "PREVIOUSLY ON FRINGE" about 45 minutes prior.)

At some point, I started doing it at my sister as well - this poor woman has two small babies all up in her house and I'd just be texting her about WTF was going on with my show, always announcing "this week, on what g's watching..." and every time she'd simply send back "unsubscribe."

So clearly, I hadn't found my audience. But honestly y'all, I think it's funny. And it's a way to get all of this, whatever this is, out. So I've decided maybe the best course of action is to just scream it into this dark and endless void. Maybe internet strangers will appreciate it. And maybe not. Either way, my sister will appreciate being removed from the mailing list.

All that to say: this week on what g's watching - Good Omens.

On repeat.

Am I literally in the middle of my third rewatch of the entire thing in only like, 2 weeks time? Yes. Should I be ashamed of that? Probably.

But fuck it. Season two punched me in the face and the butt and the heart and I went down a fucking rabbit hole. It may or may not be how I ended up on Tumblr (I guess I thought I was a grown ass woman). It may or may not be eating me alive.

Liking completely inappropriate memes? Check. Stumbled into some fanfiction? That's neither here nor there. Reading long-winded posts about whether it was Aziraphale's fault or Crowley's fault, wherein everyone has their own tinfoil-hat theory? Oh yeah. I'm in deep, folks.

I'm not gonna lie, it usually doesn't get this bad. I watched the entirety of Supernatural (all the while yelling "why are they so obsessed with each other? I don't understand why I'm still watching this!" through FIFTEEN goddamn seasons) and even still, I didn't get pulled in like this. And that fandom is so crazy.

At the time I finished Supernatural, I thought it'd be my comfort show, and I restarted it. But, just kidding.

Good Omens has taken over literally everything.

So to the actual point. A ridiculous synopsis of season 2 because I can't get it out of my goddamn brain:

A sweet looking, chubby tow-headed (kind of former? retired?) angel that owns a bookshop wherein no books are ever sold, Aziraphale, and his gorgeous, hip-swiveling (retired? disgraced?) demon companion (friend? best friend? partner?) Crowley stalk around their London neighborhood hiding a dick-faced archangel who can't remember why he is such a dick-face, from both heaven and hell, while meddling in the love lives of other shop owners and talking PAST each other about what the eff is ACTUALLY going on, and ALSO flashing back to 6,000 years worth of their own ridiculously adorable and infuriating interactions.

It's a fucking love story, kids. In the worst and most beautiful ways possible. And I just. can't.

And so. I guess, here we are? This may or may not turn into anything. But for now. Shouting into the void…